


Home is where the heart is

by Producer_of_gayness



Category: Brave (2012), Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, How Do I Tag, Magic, Relationship(s), Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Producer_of_gayness/pseuds/Producer_of_gayness
Summary: When Queen Elsa's coronation ends with an unexpected surprise, Princess Merida of Dunbroch finds herself trapped in a frozen, foreign kingdom. If she wants to survive the icy cold and the venomous politics, she'll have to fight for her life... and that of others, too.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Merida (Disney)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1: The coronation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I was originally going to post this in my oneshot book. It was supposed to be the first oneshot in a series, but then it got far too long, and I decided to divide it up into multiple parts and publish it here in a seperate work.
> 
> I know every Merelsa shipper has done it before, but here's my take on a canonverse Frozen/Brave crossover. I've done my best to put my own spin on it while trying to keep as much of the original Frozen storyline intact, and I hope you'll let me know what you think in the comment section!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Merida of Dunbroch attends Queen Elsa's coronation and witnesses its tragic end.

Summer in Arendelle was so _warm_. So different from what she was used to.

Of course, Dunbroch could be warm in summer too, but the Scottish weather she knew so well was nothing quite like this. In Dunbroch, the sun could shine peacefully one moment, and be replaced by dark clouds and loud raindrops dousing the earth the next. There was an unpredictability to it, much like the one Merida possessed herself. You could never see what would be thrown at you, and all you could do was wait and see and sit it out.

But Arendelle… there was nothing unpredictable about it. Merida let the bright, pleasant morning sun warm her face as she leaned on the taffrail of the ship she found herself on, enjoying the view of the quaint kingdom looming in the distance. She and her mother had been travelling for eight days now, on land and sea, and after all that time, she saw their destination coming closer with each passing second. It occurred to her that she was truly far from home. While the sea here in Norway smelled as salty as the sea did at home, and while the fish didn't taste any different, there was still something… strange about it. It was unfamiliar. She couldn't place it.

Perhaps it was because she'd never spent much time on international travel, unlike her parents had done in her younger days. Sure, she'd always enjoyed listening to tales of foreign lands filled with the most wondrous of things, the strangest of spices, the most delightful or gruesome meals, and yet, she'd never had much of a desire to go check it out for herself. She'd been otherwise occupied as a teenager. She'd busied herself with archery, for example, and with training her sword fighting, and with turning family members into bears and back again. Good times. But now, as an adult, the idea of visiting lands she knew little about excited her more than anything, even if she could find homesickness in her heart if she searched hard enough.

"Arriving in the kingdom of Arendelle in a few minutes!"

The captain, a man who reeked of seaweed and cheap rum, shouted the words as if she wasn't already present on deck. She wasn't afraid of a little water, and the sea had never made her sick. Her mother, on the other hand, had spent most of her time on board moving as little as possible.

"Thank you, sir," Queen Elinor muttered as she made her way towards the afterdeck to join her daughter. Her pupils were constricted, her face pale due to the nausea she'd experienced, but still she managed to maintain her royal elegance, the one Merida could only hope to possess one day.

"Some fresh air might do you good, Mum," the princess told her mother without taking her eyes off the kingdom they neared.

"I've no doubt you take after your father when it comes to sea travel," the queen replied, pinching the bridge of her nose with a small smile.

Two weeks ago, when she was still in Scotland, Merida had been given a choice. There was a coronation, her parents informed her, in a small, Norwegian kingdom called Arendelle. She'd never heard of the place, but that fact hadn't caused her interest to diminish. The options her mother had presented her with after the short briefing, had been simple ones.

Option one: she could stay in Dunbroch while King Fergus and Queen Elinor attended the coronation, representing their kingdom as best as they could. She would, of course, rule in their stead for however long her parents would decide to stay in Arendelle. It would have been a big responsibility, but also a good preparation for the future, and Merida couldn't deny there'd been something _appealing_ about the idea of having Dunbroch and its castle all to herself. She could have put the newfound power to good use; she could get shitfaced drunk off of expensive whisky with the lords and their sons, and she could solve her people's tiny disputes to pass the time, and of course, she'd have made absolutely sure Maudie would bake more apple pies.

"It was an honor, Your Majesty," the captain told her mother with a light bow as she disembarked. "Your Highness," he added with a curt nod as Merida trotted after her, more than ready to feel solid earth under her feet after days of trying to stay balanced as the ship swayed beneath her.

Arendelle had been her second option. Instead of staying behind, left in charge of Dunbroch, she could accompany her mother to the coronation, to 'broaden her horizon' and learn a thing or two about diplomacy while her father stayed in Dunbroch to take care of their own people. He'd assured her he wouldn't be disappointed if she chose to accompany his wife in his stead. Not that she'd expected him to be: her father had always been proud of her, and staying in Dunbroch meant _he_ could get drunk off his ass with the lords, singing loud songs whenever they pleased without the watchful eye of Queen Elinor spying on them.

Merida had expected it to be a hard choice. It hadn't been.

The moment she set foot in Arendelle, she knew she hadn't picked the wrong option. The kingdom was so different from what she was used to, and yet, it felt so _right_ to be there. It was a lively place, townsfolk wandering the streets in the best clothes they had for the special occassion, chattering with a contagious joy in their strange language about what the day would bring, and their smiling was so sugar-sweet Merida almost considered it suspicious.

Dunbroch, home, was dark, wild, mysterious, filled with the ancient magic of centuries and danger lurking in the woods. It could be beautiful, if you were lucky and fate allowed it. Her home had the prettiest glens, many quiet places to be alone in, and there was nothing as glorious as sitting by the Fire Falls and watching a sunset, dying rays of light ripping through fog.

Arendelle seemed to be the polar opposite of all she'd ever known. Light, peaceful, picturesque, festive (if only for today), and _modern_. When the occasional visiting dignitaries in Dunbroch had called her home 'barbaric', 'backwards', 'stuck in the Middle Ages', she'd never quite understood what they had meant. She had a better idea of it now: while Dunbroch had indeed changed little in its ways since medieval times, other kingdoms around them had worked on modernising themselves. She thought it intriguing, admiring the gas lighting all around her with wonder-filled eyes.

"What do you think of the kingdom so far?" her mother asked. She sounded more chipper than before, already feeling better now that she was back on land.

"It's beautiful," Merida replied, and she meant every word. Arendelle, so far, exceeded her expectations, even though she'd had a good feeling about the kingdom from the start. She couldn't tell why or how the place had pulled her in so fast. A twist of fate? Destiny's new game? Whatever it was she was in for, she didn't know. All she could do was hope she could have a good time.

"Is that guy talking to himself?" She asked her mother, eyeing the tiny man skipping along in front of them. He was jumpy, flanked by two large bodyguards, and he muttered words to himself with excitement. German? Merida couldn't tell. She spoke Gaelic and English, and she'd tried to learn Norwegian ever since she'd learnt she'd be travelling to Arendelle, but she was in no way an expert on foreign languages.

"Keep your voice down, or he'll hear you," her mother whispered with a souring face. "That's the Duke of Weselton, if I'm not mistaken, and we'd do well to follow him if we want to make it to the coronation on time."

"Weasel Town?"

" _Weselton._ Please, Merida."

The princess shook her head. "Don't worry, Mum. I'll behave."

Queen Elinor nodded in approval with pursed lips, her silence enough to tell Merida she would be kept to that particular promise, even if she was an adult now.

The hardest part would be sitting through the coronation itself, she figured as they slithered through the throng of visitors all bound for the Royal Palace's courtyard. She'd never attended a foreign coronation before, but a conversation with her mother had allowed her to form a pretty solid idea of this one: at least an hour of staying put on an uncomfortable church bench packed with people, listening to various indecipherable vows and prayers being spoken, preferably in Old Norse if the bishop wanted to test her patience some more.

Still, she would make it through, she told herself as both the palace and the coronation came closer. She'd sit, she'd keep quiet, and she wouldn't fall asleep during the ceremony like she'd done during young Macintosh's underwhelming performance at the last Highland Games (which he was still miffed about, even though she'd explained it was simply the alcohol that had made her sleepy). She could do it.

She was ready.

~~

Merida had not, in fact, been ready.

Oh, she'd survived the coronation itself well enough. She'd been hungry and uncomfortable, and she _really_ couldn't stand the singing church choir and the bishop's droning voice. The ceremony had been as tedious as she'd expected it to be.

But the view… the view was worth it.

She hoped it hadn't been too obvious she couldn't take her eyes off the newly-crowned Queen of Arendelle. Of course, all eyes in the chapel had been on her, but Merida still couldn't help but feel like she was being rude by watching the queen's every move. There hadn't been much else to look at, if she was honest, and Queen Elsa was the most beautiful woman she'd seen in her twenty years of being alive. That fact alone made the coronation more bearable for Merida; she could be quiet and behave if it meant she could admire the view, her hunger and the hardness of the church bench beneath her forgotten.

Still, when the bishop ended his long-winded speech and the crowd stood up to applaud, Merida had been glad it was over. The young queen seemed uncomfortable with being the center of attention, so the princess directed her gaze elsewhere, even though that alone wouldn't ease the woman's nerves.

"When are we going to have lunch?" Merida had asked her mother, her voice drowned out by all the incessant clapping of the chapel's occupants, and Queen Elinor poked her in the side by means of a warning reply.

Lunch, to her relief, came soon after the ceremony: long tables with colourful foods of many different kinds, nobles chattering all around them with festive voices. The scents of a dozen dishes mingled together, and Merida found herself at a loss when it came to deciding what to eat. She ended up sticking to a soup she couldn't quite place, and proceeded to sneak away with some brownies, opting to leave the formalities to her mother and to go explore town alone.

When she felt satisfied and ready to go back to the castle, dusk had already taken Arendelle, and the moment she entered the ballroom, she was immediately assaulted by noise. There was music, different and far more refined than what she was used to, and dozens of dignitaries talking about anything and everything, and cutlery clattering on plates at the buffet tables in the corners of the large room. The light was soft and the air heavy and warm because of the ballroom's many occupants, and Merida found herself missing the freedom she'd had outside. While the ball seemed like a fun occassion, she felt trapped between the walls and all the people.

She spotted her mother at the other end of the room, caught in a discussion with a dignitary, her usual, calm but stern voice filtering through. Merida made brief eye-contact to let Queen Elinor know she was back, and then she made for a more tranquil corner of the ballroom, away from the dance floor with all its sweaty people. She pushed a large, soft red curtain back and found a seat to lounge in behind it. The princess of Dunbroch made herself comfortable, leaned back, and observed.

In front of her throne stood Queen Elsa, this time looking amused rather than terrified, radiating a fun kind of warmth without losing her composure. Merida followed her gaze and saw Princess Anna on the dance floor, moving awkwardly to the rhytm of the music as the tiny man from before hopped around her like an annoying flea having a seizure. The princess looked as if she'd much rather been stuffing chocolate in her face, and while the redhead pitied her situation, she allowed herself to have a laugh about it.

She lost her interest in the scene when Princess Anna, rubbing her sore legs while huffing and puffing, used what remained of her energy to join her sister once again. Her eyes had a hopeful shine to them, Merida noticed before tearing her gaze away. As if she'd been waiting for a night like this one all her life. Why?

It occurred to her that Arendelle's royal family and their private affairs weren't her concern in any way. What _was_ her concern, though, was the thorough analysis of the ball, the party. Like the rest of this strange, small kingdom, it was so different from what she was used to. It was a much more formal setting, without boisterous drinking songs or exaggerated story-telling contests or fights. There was a calmth to it that Merida, in a way, could appreciate. She wouldn't admit it, but it was nice to have a party that didn't require her to excessively socialise if she wasn't up to it.

But for the most part, Arendelle's ball was terribly _boring_. Who had decided to come up with a feast like this one? Had they ever been to an actual party? While you had to be in the mood for them, Merida couldn't deny there was something exciting and enticing about the Scottish parties at home, involving lots of ale and weapons and simple foods that weren't so fancy she couldn't even pronounce the names if she tried.

She shifted in her seat and decided to busy herself with checking out the new queen again, but she was out of luck. While she'd been thinking about the loud parties at home, she hadn't noticed the Arendelle royals leaving their spots as the centers of attention. Of course the queen and her sister would mingle with the visitors, and it shouldn't have been a surprise to her that they'd apparently chosen to do that exact thing. Still, she felt disappointment rush through her upon realizing the queen was gone.

It was high time for a drink, though she thought she'd have to settle for something more expensive and fancy than the stuff she drank at home. With a sigh, Merida released herself from her self-imposed solitary confinement and made for a table, hoping to find herself a glass of wine, or two, or three.

"How much…" she mumbled to herself as she filled a glass up with the red liquid, concentrating hard, careful not to spill anything on the still crisp, white tablecloth. "…To not get drunk?"

Merida could handle alcohol well, but the wine was _foreign_ , and the little information on the bottle's label was written in French. She had no way to tell how potent it was until she'd tried it, and even then, she could still only guess. She stared at her wine as if it would give her an answer, but all the glorified grape juice seemed to do was mock her.

"Two?" A reply to the question she'd asked herself. Though she hadn't counted on receiving an answer, she could stomach the ensuing conversation if need be. She turned fast to see who the soft voice, speaking English with a slight accent, belonged to, and stood stunned for a solid few seconds when she saw Queen Elsa next to her.

"Careful," the queen said, eyeing the wine as it threatened to spill out of Merida's glass. The redhead had been so out of it she'd almost emptied the contents of her glass on the white tablecloth she'd been trying to spare. "It would be a waste of good wine."

Merida cleared her throat, found her voice again somewhere. "I was thinking more along the lines of four," she told the queen, locking their eyes together. God, Queen Elsa had beautiful eyes. So soft, and blue, and alight with _something_ , shining through the aloof air of distant restraint following her every move.

A slight smile tugged at the queen's lips. "You _would_ get drunk," she said, reaching out with a gloved hand for the bottle of wine to pour herself a glass too. "And that has never sounded like a pleasant affliction."

"Am Scottish, Your Majesty," Merida replied, though she was sure the queen would have been able to tell. Her accent always gave her away. "I can handle my liquor."

Queen Elsa laughed, and Merida, remembering her mother was in the room with her, came to the conclusion she hadn't been showing off her best manners. "Apologies," she said with haste and a quick bow. "I never introduced myself. Princess Merida of Dunbroch."

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," said the queen, her reserved smile still showing. There was no need for her to introduce herself, but she'd done it anyway. Merida took it as a gesture of goodwill.

"Your kingdom is beautiful," she told her new companion after taking a sip of her fruity, cool wine. Complimenting the queen on her kingdom seemed as good an idea as any; Merida was sure her mother would approve. "It's not what I'm used to, but I think it's… _magical_ in its own right."

She watched Queen Elsa tense, pupils dilating and her fingers growing shaky. "Thank you," she said with a shaky voice, placing her yet untouched glass of wine back on the table to avoid spilling anything.

Merida raised her eyebrows. "Did I say something wrong?" She asked, a cold feeling creeping up her spine. If she managed to ruin Dunbroch's potential future alliance tonight, her mother would be sure to shower her with colourful language uncharacteristic of the sophisticated lady. That, and, she concluded, she hated seeing the Queen of Arendelle so fragile, hurt by something Merida couldn't see. The cold feeling lingered, making the princess shiver, and she wondered how the hell her brief panic had managed to affect her body.

"It's fine," said the queen, very much not sounding fine. " _I'm_ fine. It's… it's just…" she took a deep breath. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing," Merida replied, realising too late it could've been viewed as disrespectful. "Do you need to go outside for a bit, or…?"

Before Queen Elsa could give her an answer, Princess Anna interrupted their quality time. The queen's sister came rushing towards them at full speed, dragging a redhaired man along by his meticulous, white sleeve. She was giggling, and he wore a bright smile, and Merida leaned back against the table as she watched the excited couple bounce around.

"Elsa!" Princess Anna began, before remembering her manners. "I mean, _Queen_ Elsa. Do you have a moment? This is Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

Merida shrugged and went to finish her wine when the queen gave her an apologetic, slight smile. She pretended to be interested in studying the many salad plates to be found on the table, but kept her ears open. Even if she wasn't fluent at all when it came to Norwegian, she figured she'd listen to whatever pieces of the conversation she could make out.

"Hans and I would like to ask for your blessing of our marriage!"

If Merida hadn't finished her wine already, she would've spit it out and sprayed the table red. What the hell? She hadn't misheard, had she? Arendelle, if what her mother had told her was right, had been closed off and secretive for years. Queen Elsa's coronation had been the first event that managed to open the kingdom's mysterious gates in years. There was no way Princess Anna had known this Prince Hans for more than a day, even though the two clung to eachother as if they were eachother's basic necessity of life.

Why marry someone you just met? Merida had sacrificed much to avoid doing that same thing; her desire not to get married to a stranger had set a storm in motion four years ago, when her mother and brothers had become bears and Mor'du had been dealt with once and for all. She'd fought for the freedom she knew she deserved, a freedom this Norwegian princess had never had to fight for… and this girl gave said freedom away as if she'd never needed it? Merida hadn't been this baffled since she'd arrived in Arendelle that morning.

"Fine. You can't marry a man you just met." Queen Elsa's voice sounded less soft than before, now laced with a cold edge. At least _she_ possessed some common sense. She seemed unimpressed at her sister's protesting, but Merida could feel the hot anger Princess Anna radiated. A volcano, dormant for years, now threatening to erupt.

"The party's over," said the queen with a finality as she walked away without looking back. "Close the gates."

The tension in the room rose when her sister ran after her, yelling for her to wait and yanking one glove off the Queen's hand.

"Give me my glove," Queen Elsa hissed, reaching forward to take back what was hers, but Princess Anna darted away from her.

"Elsa, please! I can't live like this anymore!"

'Like this?' Merida looked around, at the fancy foods and all the people, taking in the party, and decided 'this' didn't seem so bad. It was uncomfortably warm in the ballroom, she would admit that much, but for the most part, the redhead had seen little to complain about.

Queen Elsa mumbled a few words Merida couldn't make out, her eyes filled with pain, and turned away once again, turning her back on her feast and visitors to retreat back into her castle and shut the gates.

"What did I ever do to you?" Princess Anna shouted after her sister, clutching the stolen glove as if she wanted to squeeze all life out of it. All curious, confused and shocked eyes in the room, Merida's included, turned to her and the scene she was causing.

"Enough, Anna."

Cold, so cold. Strange. Merida was sure it had been far hotter in the ballroom mere minutes ago.

"No! Why? Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the _world_ out? What are you so _afraid_ of?" Princess Anna approached her sister, still shouting, followed by a few reluctant dignitaries who perhaps intended to calm her down. Merida herself took a few steps forward too, to form a better idea of what was going on. With every step she took, she came closer to the arguing sisters, and with every step she felt colder.

"I said enough!"

The first shocker was that Queen Elsa had raised her voice, which Merida deemed incredibly uncharacteristic, even though she'd only talked to the queen for five minutes tops. The second shocker was the ice.

Icicles, radiating enough cold to make Merida want to wring her hands together for warmth, shot out of Queen Elsa's ungloved hand, forming a protective, sharp wall around her. The ice cracked and the crowd gasped, scrambling to get as far away from the queen as possible. Though Merida, if she'd gauged the distance right, hadn't been in danger of being impaled by impromptu ice spikes, she still took a step back to protect herself from nothing.

"Sorcery…"

She couldn't tell why the tiny duke had chosen to speak English now. To let each and every foreign visitor in the room know they were, indeed, dealing with magic? To draw all attention to the surprising, scary development in front of them? His tone was off, too. His voice shook, fearful and angry, and his beady eyes narrowed as he glared at the queen. Merida felt like punching his teeth out, what her mother had to say about it be damned.

Queen Elsa, apparently, had had enough. Her own fear seemed more present than that of all her visitors combined, evident from the look on her face. With a trembling hand, she reached for the doorknob of the door she'd pressed herself to with a frantic movement, and she ran, her purple cape flying after her.

When Princess Anna got over her initial shock, she ran too, following her sister with great speed. Prince Hans and the duke sprinted after her, the sound of their footsteps dying away, drowned out by the many confused voices piping up in the ballroom, trying to make sense of what had happened. Merida turned around and let her eyes roam around the room in search of her mother.

Queen Elinor, as it turned out, had been eating while the incident had taken place. Merida found her seated at a table not far from where she herself had been talking to Queen Elsa only minutes before, a plate full of what seemed to be some sort of gelatinous fish in front of her. The Scottish queen shivered, her teeth chattering slightly. "It's cold," she stated.

"It's the queen," Merida retorted with wide eyes.

"What happened?" Her mother asked. Seated at the back of the ballroom as she had been, she'd missed most of the scene that had been playing out between the royal sisters of Arendelle. Her eyes found the wall of ice that formed half a circle around the door Queen Elsa had fled through. "Is that…?"

"Magic," Merida confirmed, pulling a face as the scent of her mother's meal reached her nose. She shoved the plate aside, leaned on the table and looked Queen Elinor in the eyes. "Outside. Bad feeling about this."

She didn't wait for her mother to even register her words and turned around, shoving through the crowd to reach the wall of ice. She jumped over it, careful not to slip, and followed the trail of ice Queen Elsa had left behind, trusting it would lead her outside. Her footsteps echoed in the empty, once-warm hallways of the unfamiliar castle.

Magic. Queen Elsa possessed _magic_. Even though Merida had experience with magic, she still hadn't believed her own eyes when she'd first seen the ice. Her initial thought had been that she was drunk, hallucinating, that she'd accidentally taken absinthe instead of wine and lived through a fever dream. But her mind hadn't deceived her. The Queen was as magical as her kingdom. Was that why she'd tensed? The Queen had _magic,_ beautiful, dangerous magic, magic that could grow darker than expected, though Merida realised good could also come out of it.

But would Queen Elsa use her powers for good or bad? It was a question Merida couldn't answer. She'd _s_ _eemed_ friendly, but the woodworking witch in the woods had seemed friendly too, and that hag had taken to turning her family members into large forest wildlife. No, thank you. Merida would take more time to judge the magic before trusting it this time.

When she finally made it outside, a single glance told her her instincts hadn't betrayed her. The citizens of Arendelle were busy talking amongst themselves, no doubt about their queen, and some pointed at one of the elegant fountains in the middle of the courtyard. Its water had been frozen solid, sharp, jagged ice spikes pointing at the sky. And out of that same sky, she noticed upon descending down the stairs and joining the Arendellian citizens, fell snow. Thick, soft flakes, slow and silent, getting stuck in her curls and melting there.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Princess Anna, desperately trying to calm the tiny duke down. Prince Hans stood with her, his gloved hand placed on her shoulder as if he was afraid the duke would hurt her.

"The witch has cursed this land!" The Duke of Weselton spat, literally, emphasizing his words with wild gestures at the sky. His breath hitched and he shivered, the action too dramatic to be genuine.

"There's a difference," Merida told him as she approached the odd trio, "between a witch and a queen."

Princess Anna raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I know your name?"

Merida ran a hand through her hair, hoping to get rid of the snowflakes she sported, to no avail. "Princess Merida of Dunbroch," she answered. "Know a thing or two about magic, that I do." She made sure to glare at the annoying duke, who seemed to thrive on the panic he was causing.

"Nice to meet you," said the Princess of Arendelle, shaking Merida's hand with an absent look. "I'd have preferred to meet you over dinner instead of like this, but…"

"Can't be helped." Merida shrugged. "Mess isn't your fault."

Princess Anna closed her eyes and shook her head. "It kind of is… and it isn't at the same time." She opened her eyes, determination twinkling in them. "But I'll make it right. I'll find my sister and bring back summer."

The princess had decided, and Merida could see she'd rather die than not go through with her improvised plan. She called for her horse to be brought to her, trotting through the snow. Her fiancé stopped her with yet another gloved hand on her shoulder. "Anna, it isn't safe-"

"I _have_ to do this," she told him, shutting him down. "And Elsa's my sister. She would never hurt me." 

Merida saw her mother approaching from the corner of her eye, but paid her no mind. "If it would please you, Your Highness," she said slowly, "I'd like to volunteer to accompany you. I know my way around weapons, and like I said, I'm experienced when it comes to magic." She'd never encountered elemental magic, but what did it matter? She smelled an exciting adventure, and she didn't think her mother would mind her tagging along with the princess as long as she didn't ruin what little of a good reputation her kingdom had. And it would mean she could see Queen Elsa again, who intrigued her more than anyone she'd ever met.

But Princess Anna shook her head. "Thank you, but I think it's best if I go alone. It might be stupid, but bringing other people might make her go a bit…" she made a few gestures and a noise Merida couldn't quite place, but she understood the underlying idea.

"I understand. Do what you need to do." Her hunger for adventure ebbed away as she chose to accept her fate for once, in spite of her disappointment. The words the Princess spoke made sense, and Merida figured she'd do better not to be around when Queen Elsa went all ice-crazy again.

_Scared. She was scared._

Whether the Queen of Arendelle was a monster or not, Merida felt sorry for her, wanted to give her a hug. It had nothing to do with her attraction to the woman, but everything to do with wanting to comfort someone who needed it. But, if she'd judged the situation right, Queen Elsa needed her sister's comfort the most.

Princess Anna took hold of the reins of her horse when a servant gave it to her. She thanked the boy and turned to Merida: "But I _could_ use your help. If you could assist my fiancé in protecting the people of Arendelle, I'd be indebted to you forever."

Merida nodded, giving Prince Hans a sideways glance. Her mother halted next to her. "On my honour as Princess of Dunbroch, your people will be safe."

"And on my honour as Prince of the Southern Isles, I swear the same," Prince Hans added. Merida could detect subtle hints of irritation in his voice, and his eyes darkened for a split second. There was something threatening about him in that brief moment, but when she blinked and looked closer, he was nothing but an ordinary prince.

Princess Anna smiled as she mounted her horse. "I leave Prince Hans in charge!" She yelled, demanding her people's attention. "And I'll bring back summer!" With those words, her horse sprinted away, and like her sister, the princess disappeared into the night.

"We should seek to calm the people, _Princess_ Merida of Dunbroch," Hans said with a sly smile, shoving past her roughly when Princess Anna was out of sight. "They must be… in shock"

Merida didn't like that tone one bit. She glared at his back as he mingled with the crowd, trying to explain the situation as well as he could with his own limited knowledge. The snow, still falling, began to form a cold blanket on the ground.

"You did well," said Queen Elinor, her voice full of motherly affection. "Didn't get the adventure you wanted, but you tried." She nodded to the opened gates Princess Anna had left through. "And you may have made a friend."

"A friend…" Merida shot another glare towards the redhaired prince of the Southern Isles, caught in a conversation with two men, smiling and speaking reassuring words as his breath formed clouds in the cold summer night. "…And an enemy." She stared at the sky, at a once starry night now filled with dark clouds, and watched relentless snowflakes fall.


	2. Chapter 2: Power's game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keeping a cursed kingdom safe is hard, especially when you and your 'partner' don't get along... at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I wouldn't deliver? Guess what, you thought wrong. Here we go for chapter two!

Summer in Arendelle was so fucking _cold_. Snow piled up high on the rooftops, in the streets, everywhere. Ice coated windows, bridges, crept up street lights. Not even the burning fires in the castle's hearths, kept alive by what little firewood Arendelle had possessed in summer, could keep the kingdom warm. The wind howled as it cut through the clothes of those brave enough to venture outside, stabbing through them with an sharpness made of ice. And when the frost bit, it bit hard, clamping down with teeth strong enough to rip mountains to shreds on unsuspecting Arendellians and the trapped royal visitors.

"I have a message I'd like to send."

Merida's voice rang clear through the small post office, causing the man sitting at his desk to look up. He lifted his head from his hands when he saw her enter, staring with wide eyes, shaking the sleep and misery and the biting cold out of his mind. "Your Highness," he said, using all the strength his freezing body still possessed to bow stiffly. 

Inside, according to Merida, wasn't much better than outside. Wherever she went, winter ruled all. The warmth she'd felt upon entering the kingdom had left overnight, leaving nothing behind but an icy hellscape. Her own voice sounded distant in her ears, as if her eardrums had frosted over. "A letter," she said, holding it up for the postman to see. "Addressed to Fergus of Dunbroch, the Bear King. Queen Elinor wanted him to know we'll be… _delayed_."

"Delayed," the postman repeated with a huff, plucking absent-mindedly at his black moustache. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you, Your Highness. This winter isn't doing the postal service any good, not even to speak of international service..."

"Your fjord is frozen over," she said. "No ship as it exists today could break through that, can it?"

"Not to my knowledge, Your Highness, but I can hardly call myself an expert on such matters."

"You got people up in the mountains? Delivering mail or whatnot?"

The postman shook his head, trembling fingers gripping his desk tighter to stop their shaking. Merida pulled her black cloak tighter, even though it gave her little warmth; it had gotten soaked because of the snow all over the place.

"It would be a crime to send anyone into the mountains with this weather. Safety matters more, Your Highness."

Merida nodded. She couldn't deny the truth in his words. "You're right." She placed her mother's letter to her father on the postman's desk, even though it wouldn't be sent. "Would you mind if I left this here?"

"Of course I wouldn't, Your Highness." The politeness of the Arendellians still stunned her. No one in Scotland had ever called her by an official title that often. "May you be safe out there."

"And may your business thrive when this is over," she replied before turning around, taking a deep breath and braving Arendelle's icy summer once again. It was quiet outside. Citizens cowered in their homes or travelled to the castle for food, drink, and the last significant warmth, and even the birds kept a vow of silence, as if they'd all frozen to death. When Merida looked up, at the little snow still falling, she found nothing but emptyness, and grey, mocking clouds.

Snow had fallen all night, and while the sky began to show signs of the fall slowing, there were still hundreds of soft flakes falling down, coating her cloak and inevitably getting stuck in her curls. If the artificial winter, as Merida suspected, responded to Queen Elsa's emotions, she had at least calmed down a little. It was a start. Not for the first time, the redhead wondered if Princess Anna was making any progress.

She walked along Arendelle's railroad track, which was covered in frost like the rest of the kingdom. Would a train still come out here, now that winter had claimed the place? She wouldn't have been surprised if any neighbouring kingdoms had decided to not send any train towards Arendelle. Who could blame them? Magic, strong enough to trap a kingdom in a season, was a force to be reckoned with. It was a problem, though, for a frozen fjord meant no passage of ships, which left only trains to bring supplies the kingdom could find itself in need of if the winter chose to stay, and if there weren't any trains…

Merida shivered and chose not to think about it anymore.

It was a shame there weren't any trains either way, she thought to herself as she left the railway for what it was and set out for the courtyard of Arendelle's castle. Dunbroch had no trains, and while she'd heard and seen the huge machines elsewhere in Scotland, they never failed to impress her. Trains reeked of steam, and they were intimidating to her, used as she was to travelling by horse, but she'd never been one to let fear of the unknown get in the way of exploring said unknown. This unknown in Arendelle, though… she wanted to believe it would all turn out fine, but she still couldn't help growing concerned.

Arendelle was isolated. No one got in, no one got out. And if Merida had to pick a time and a place to die, she'd have chosen 'in a bed, about seventy years from now', not 'acute hypothermia in a foreign street'.

"I'm sure it would please the people if you'd make yourself useful, Princess Merida."

Merida looked up upon entering the courtyard, finding the eyes of Prince Hans. He held a neatly-folded pile of fresh, warm cloaks out for her.

"Help me distribute these. We need to make sure the Arendellians stay warm, and we should tell those who aren't aware yet that we're providing food too."

What a _warm_ gesture from the Southern Isles' prince. Merida remained quiet, but accepted the clothes he handed her with a weak nod. It surprised her he even bothered to speak to her in English. She trotted after him through the snow, watching him as he spoke encouraging words to the few citizens still out and about, and she distributed cloaks wherever she could without saying a word.

"You're glaring," said the prince after a few minutes. "Stop. It's scary."

Merida frowned. "Am _truly_ sorry if you're scared of me."

"I'm not talking about me." Prince Hans shook his head, licking his lips chapped by the cold. "The people. Try to look more friendly." 

"Hm. Telling me what to do now, are you?"

He sighed, closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. "We don't need to _like_ eachother to do this, but we need to present ourselves as a united front. For the people, you understand? As long as we're calm, as long as we're not fighting amongst ourselves, they'll follow our example."

Her mother would have agreed, would have eaten the words right up. All Merida cared about was the insinuation. "You don't like me?"

Prince Hans raised a hand to wave at an Arendellian man neither of them knew. A friendly gesture. "You seem like you would appreciate honesty. Do you want to know what I think of you?"

"Do tell."

He gave her a smile, razor-sharp, twinkling as white as the snow covering their wintery prison in the last rays of sunlight still passing through the clouds. "I believe you to be an insolent, self-important, foolish girl who doesn't know her place."

Merida balled her hands into fists, bit her tongue and recalled what her mother had taught her. Wrecking rooms and breaking bones wasn't always an option. She had to count to ten, or twenty, thirty, a hundred or two or three if that was what it took to calm down. She began the mental exercise, and asked: "And what do you presume my place is?"

The prince took a few seconds to come up with a reply. "The gutters of Paris, at best."

"Never been there."

"Every important royal has been to Paris." An insult, embedded in what could have been an innocent observation. Goddamn, this guy was _good_.

"You're an open book, Princess," said Prince Hans upon seeing her face reddening with anger. "If you wanted to play power's game, you should have come better prepared."

Merida's count reached eighty-nine. "What about yourself?" She hissed, for once in a quiet tone of voice her mother would have been proud of if she'd heard it. Well, if she wouldn't comment on the hidden malice, that was. "You're too good to be true, Prince Hans. You're too _perfect._ Arendelle's new Golden Boy. You act like a saviour, you _want_ to be a saviour, but with the way you're going about it, I won't believe for a second you're being genuine."

Merida had male friends, the sons of the lords, with whom she got along well. She'd never found them threatening in the slightest. That was, as her father had so eloquently voiced it, because 'they shared one collective brain cell and took turns using it'. With Macintosh, MacGuffin and Dingwall, she knew who and what she was dealing with. But this Prince Hans was different. This Prince Hans was _clever_ , slithering through the courtyard like a snake feigning kindness, waiting to sink his venomous fangs into his unsuspecting victims. If there was anything Merida knew to be dangerous, it was clever men in positions of power.

Her speech did not sit well with the prince. He straightened himself to make himself look bigger, which Merida found a laughable scare tactic, even if she had to admit he did it with an air of sheer regality hanging around him. His eyes narrowed as he delivered his answer, his words slow but full of emotion:

"I didn't ask for this burden to be bestowed upon me, Princess. I didn't _ask_ to be a saviour. It was Princess Anna's good judgment that left me in charge, and I have faith in my fiancée. It's my duty to look after her people as well as I can. A heavy responsibility, but if I must be a saviour, I will be what I must be." He began to speak faster, still calm, but with more fire in his voice. "And if you're jealous, Princess Merida, because _you_ wanted to be the saviour in my stead, all I can do is feel pity for your troubled soul."

Pity for her… was this guy for real? _Jealous_? Her distrust towards Prince Hans had nothing to do with jealousy. She didn't want to be Arendelle's saviour. She hadn't come with glory or fame in mind. Right? Or was she indeed…?

No. It dawned on her how dangerous the prince was, how he'd played her like a fucking fiddle. His silver tongue had almost managed to make her believe the lies he'd told about her. This man twisted her words faster than she could speak them, and he wielded his own like a weapon, deadlier than she knew she herself could be. He was one to watch out for.

"I've got no memory of saying I was-"

She didn't finish her sentence upon hearing the noise, clearly audible in the quiet that had reigned before. _Neighing_. She turned away from Prince Hans, towards the gates of the courtyard, searching for the source.

Prince Hans cursed in his native tongue when the horse came into view. The poor animal panicked, bucking and neighing and never standing still, its rider thrown off long ago. Even if Merida _hadn't_ had experience with Angus for years, she would have been able to tell this horse was in visible distress. A few guards rushed towards it to calm it down, and she rushed towards them in return.

"That's Princess Anna's horse," she said, shocked.

"Kjekk?" Prince Hans frowned, reaching out to help calm the horse down. "But where's Princess Anna?"

"Not _here_ , if you hadn't figured that out yet."

He shot her a brief glare before turning to the Arendellian guards with a worried voice. "Have you seen the princess? Is she here?"

"She hasn't been spotted, Your Highness."

The prince nodded, expression solemn, his frown never leaving. "I need volunteers to help me find Princess Anna!" He yelled, for all standing close to hear. The guards of Arendelle would join his cause, at least, sworn as they were to protect Arendelle's royal family. Merida wondered who Hans would leave in charge, but she vowed to ask her mother to keep an eye on matters in Arendelle while she was gone.

"I volunteer to accompany you, Prince Hans," she told him with a smug smile before he could walk away. "And I promise you, I won't be denied another adventure."

She made for the courtyard, pleased she'd gotten her point across, and thought it was about high time she'd get to make use of her bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Merida and Hans are basically eachother's polar opposites, there's something I really enjoy about writing their hostile interactions.
> 
> Are you in for some action next? I sure hope you are!


	3. Chapter 3: The monster of the palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Merida, Prince Hans and the royal guards of Arendelle arrive at Queen Elsa's icy new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you action, and here it is! Enjoy!

Merida had never, not in her wildest dreams, thought she'd ever lay eyes upon something as beautiful as what stood in front of her. It was enough to make her forget how _cold_ the North mountain was, and how hard it had become to breathe, and how her lungs felt like they'd been torn to shreds by shards of ice.

The palace, a magnificent building made of the same ice taunting her, rose up into the sky as if trying to reach the clouds. It glistened in the sunlight, making it even more blinding to look at, and though it radiated a cold trying its hardest to keep uninvited visitors out, there was a beauty to the creation that couldn't be denied.

"Wow…" she muttered to herself, her breath forming clouds in the thin mountain air. So this was also what Queen Elsa was capable of? Her magic was beautiful and powerful, dangerous and cold. It was breathtaking. _Queen Elsa_ was breathtaking.

Merida shook that thought away as she dismounted from her horse, whispering a brief 'thank you' to the animal and patting its neck briefly. The horse wasn't as strong or fast as Angus, but he'd done a good job.

Prince Hans, who had also dismounted, held up his hand to keep his group in place. "Careful now." He began approaching the staircase leading up to the palace in a slow fashion, his sword kept ready to attack anything or anyone who came at him, despite there being no one in sight.

If Queen Elsa could build a palace as amazing as this, Merida thought, she could surely thaw the winter Arendelle lay trapped in. Couldn't she? Had Princess Anna managed to convince her? Had Princess Anna ever even made it this far up the mountain, or had she gotten lost? It had made sense to let the girl go alone, but how dangerous had it been to let her ride off into a winter wasteland with no one to keep her company? Her horse had returned without a rider. For all Merida knew, Princess Anna lay dead and broken in a ravine somewhere, without ever having reached her magical sister.

A loud roar derailed her train of thought. Realizing she'd been zoning out, Merida's head snapped up to see what had happened. She regretted her decision the moment she saw the monster rising up in front of her.

Prince Hans backed away from the beast, a huge snow creature with empty eyes glowing blue, sharp claws made of ice, and icicles sticking out of its back. When it opened its mouth to let out yet another devastating roar, it bared its cold teeth, also made of ice strong enough to tear through the puny humans in front of it with ease.

Merida stood paralysed for a few seconds, staring at the monster in all its glory, and remembered another monster, long gone but still alive in her memory. She saw Mor'du the demon bear once more, standing tall in a night lit up by the torches of the lords, the stench of death and sulfur spreading around him as he readied himself to sink his teeth into her mother, into _her_.

She snapped out of it when an icy claw lunged at her and the guards she'd been standing near, and she danced out of its reach on instinct, almost falling face-first in the snow. _Stupid_ , she thought to herself as she regained her balance with a groan. She'd forgotten one of the most important rules of a fight: never give an enemy the chance to strike first. She hadn't seen the snowman coming and it could have been her death. Those claws weren't soft, and the strength in the beast's arms was such that it could slap her off the mountain with little difficulty.

Time to start shooting.

While Hans and a few Arendellian guards in dark green attacked the monster with their swords, hacking and slashing at its thick legs of snow, Merida chose another tactic. She took her bow and let her instincts take over, fourteen years of experience waiting to come out and play. Archery was simple, if you took the time to study the art of it properly. You had to understand where to aim, _how_ to aim, how to keep yourself steady, how to take in your surroundings so you could loose the perfect shot. But when push came to shove, it all amounted to making sure the arrow hit its target.

Draw, aim, loose. Draw, aim, loose. Merida had perfected her skills over the years, and her shooting required little thought these days. What she _had_ thought about, was her target. The prince could hack at his beast all he wanted, but she wouldn't waste her energy helping them go through with that futile plan. The monster had eyes, and that meant it could be blinded. Two arrows was all she needed in a best case scenario.

Her shooting, combined with the swordplay of the prince and the guards, angered the monster to no end. It howled, the air coming out of his mouth so cold it cut through her body, but she kept shooting nonetheless. To her dismay, the snowman was less sluggish than she'd anticipated, and it plucked her arrows out of the sky as if they were nothing but butterflies. Merida cursed and loosed one more shot.

Hit!

Snow's eye.

The monster, though not hurt, stopped dead in his tracks, confused. Merida reckoned she'd have been confused too if she'd found an arrow sticking out of her eye, but there was no time to dwell on that. She saw an opportunity and seized it. With the monster distracted, she could make a run for the stairs. If she stayed on the monster's blind side and didn't make a sound, she stood a chance of reaching the palace.

She bolted for the stairs, grabbed hold of the railing to keep herself from slipping, and began a quick but cautious ascent up to Queen Elsa's new home. She moved as fast as she could, but remained careful as she went, taking precious seconds and spending them on studying where she placed her feet. Ice was pretty, but it was deadly too. While she had no fear of heights or falling, she didn't fancy plummeting to a sudden death off a mountain.

Prince Hans, making good use of the monster's distracted state, finally succeeded in cutting one of its legs off. He turned on his heels within seconds as the monster struggled to regain its balance and rushed after her, panting.

The monster growled one last time, full of malice, full of _pain_ as it fell down, off the mountain. Merida stopped to watch it go, bracing herself and wondering if the fall would hurt or destroy it, or if it lived as long as Queen Elsa did.

She didn't have time to think for long.

The monster had fallen, but its enormous, sharp claws had hit the staircase, and it had taken a large chunk of ice with it in its fall. Merida, higher up on the stairs, held on tightly to the railing to keep herself in place, even though the ice made her hands feel numb. Prince Hans, however, was less lucky. The stairs he'd been climbing disappeared from under him, and he had to jump to save his life. He shot forward and managed to grab hold of a slippery railing of ice, his gloved hand struggling to prevent his fall.

"Princess," he grunted, trying to pull himself up with great difficulty. It was a good thing he didn't look down; if he did, he would have seen a gaping hole under him, illuminated by rays of dying sunlight, with no ground in sight. He could have let go out of shock and gotten a mouth full of snow, along with broken bones and a one-way ticket to whatever afterlife was out there.

Merida was no saint. She would have told anyone who took the time to ask that she'd hesitated. It was tempting to let Arendelle's Golden Boy fend for himself. If he could save himself, good for him. If he couldn't, good for _her_. She held no sympathy for the perfect Prince of the Southern Isles, and a part of her would have enjoyed seeing him fall to a quick demise.

But she remembered Princess Anna, who, despite her poor choices in love, had spoken to her and the people she ruled over with kindness, who had looked so concerned for her sister's and her people's wellbeing, who had been so ready to sacrifice _everything_ if it meant finding and retrieving Queen Elsa to free Arendelle from its cold prison. Princess Anna loved this guy, in spite of all his twisted words and dangerous looks, and if Princess Anna still lived, she deserved to return home to a fiancé she could spend the rest of her days with in quiet happiness.

The prince's grip was strong as he latched on to the hand she held out to him, and an expression of relief came over his face when she'd pulled him back to safety and he no longer dangled above a threatening abyss. "Thank you," he told her, breathless, and she could almost bring herself to believe his words.

She had nothing to say to him. Her eyes darted towards the palace, where Queen Elsa now resided. Though her legs and lungs burned with cold, she began rushing towards the palace again, eager to see what secrets it held. She barely registered Hans' calling out to the Arendellian soldiers to follow, his voice fading in the wind as she kept putting distance between them.

The doors of the palace opened at the lightest touch, and Merida stumbled inside, holding her hand out to the wall next to her to try and break her fall in case she lost her footing on the slippery palace floor. She took a few seconds to gape at her surroundings. As a teenager, she never would have guessed she'd one day find herself in a foreign kingdom, dealing with dignitaries, fighting snow monsters and visiting glacial palaces. But it was _real_ , right in front of her.

Everything in her general vicinity was made of ice, glowing a soft yellow for reasons Merida couldn't fathom. And when she said everything, she meant _everything_ : the walls lined with snowflake patterns, the pretty chandeliers, the elegant little fountain in the middle of the hall. The palace was huge and cold and empty, and the sounds of the fight on an upper floor echoed clearly inside the walls.

_Fight?_

It didn't bode well. Merida slid to the numerous flights of stairs leading up with as much speed as she could muster, her bow clutched tightly in her hand. She kept her eyes open, anticipating an attack from yet another snowy palace guard, but found none. Below her, Prince Hans and the guards also began their ascent, but she paid them no mind.

The higher she came, the colder she got. By the time she'd reached the top floor, she was shivering harder than ever before. And if that wasn't chilling enough, the scene taking place in front of her certainly was.

She hadn't noticed the two men had climbed the stairs before her, too caught up in her fight with the hulking snowman. They didn't wear dark green like Arendelle's soldiers, but a soft red instead, and she recognized them as Weselton's men. One of them had been pinned to a wall by sharp icicles, inching closer to his throat with each passing second, and the other… Merida could only hear him roar, but saw a wall of ice being shoved towards the balcony and didn't doubt he was trapped behind it. And in the middle of it all stood Queen Elsa, different than before, her back turned to the Scottish princess, more than ready to end the men's lives once and for all.

Merida had gotten better with words over the years, but still couldn't find any appropriate ones for the situation. All she could think of saying, was the title. "Queen Elsa."

The queen snapped out of her trance and perked up, having heard her name without knowing where it came from. Merida couldn't pinpoint whatever kind of expression she wore, but figured it wasn't a pleasant one. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't produce any sound.

"Don't be the monster they fear you are!" 

For once, Merida was grateful the prince was there. His silver tongue had spoken the right words once again, because Queen Elsa ceased her violence, turning around with a heart-wrenching, shocked face full of fear. She stood still, studied her visitors, waiting for any of them to make a move like a caged animal, scared of whatever would happen next. 

Merida didn't think she could have made a move if she tried. The queen had changed. In a good way. She'd been beautiful before, but now… goddamn it, how could someone so cold be so hot at the same time? The princess hoped neither the guards nor the prince noticed the slight flush creeping up her cheeks, or that they'd assume it was because of the cold.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Prince Hans run to the left, towards Weselton's man who'd been pinned to the wall. She shook her brief paralysis off and turned for a better look. Was that…? That was a crossbow in his hand. A crossbow he pointed at the queen.

He loosed his shot.

For the second time that day, Merida was happy Prince Hans was there, and she hoped that wouldn't become a habit. The prince had pushed the shooter's bow up, throwing off his aim. The deadly bolt flew up, climbing higher and higher towards the ceiling. Merida almost sighed in relief, but then she heard something break. Ice.

Her eyes darted to the huge chandelier, and she saw it was no longer attached to the ceiling. It fell down, faster and harder than the snowman from before had done, and the queen was standing right under it, watching the fall, dazed and confused.

"Watch out!" Merida yelled with panic tainting her voice, her throat dry all of a sudden.

To her delight, Queen Elsa heard her loud and clear. How the woman managed to run in heels made of ice was beyond Merida, but she ran, and fast, too. The redhead reached out when she came closer, grabbing her arm to pull her to safety. Full of adrenaline as she was, she did so with such strength it made her lose her balance, which sent her and Queen Elsa flying.

Merida groaned when she felt herself hit the floor. She blinked, saw black spots and stars and icy splinters sailing through the crisp, thin air of the North Mountain. The noise of the shattering chandelier filled the room, making her head pound. She didn't even protest when a guard helped her up. In the distance, she could hear Hans shouting 'fool!' at the man who'd loosed the crossbow shot, which pleased her to no end.

She was cold to the bone and every muscle in her body ached. Hell, even her brain hurt at this point. She turned to Queen Elsa, to see if she was faring any better, but that wasn't the case: the Snow Queen had fallen unconscious. Whether it was stress, shock, her fall, or a combination of all three that had done her in, she was out like a light, lying unmoving next to the Scottish princess on the yellow-glowing floor of the palace she herself had created.

Was she still breathing? Merida knelt down next to her, ignoring the cold floor stinging her knees and pulling her cloak tighter around her, and she held her hand in front the queen's mouth to check. She heard slow footsteps approach her from behind, but didn't look.

"Is she okay?" Prince Hans asked, halting next to her. He looked down at the queen with concern in his eyes.

"She's breathing," Merida replied. "Could probably be doing better, but… she doesn't seem to be injured much."

Prince Hans nodded. "Good. We should bring her back to Arendelle." He motioned for a guard, but Merida stopped him with one sharp look.

"I'll do it."

If the prince even thought anything of it, he didn't voice his opinion. He shrugged, uncaring, and turned away from her without another look. "If it pleases you," was all he said, adjusting his coat as he left her.

Slowly, careful now. She wasn't _used_ to being gentle with people, but there was a first time for anything, and Queen Elsa wasn't heavy in the slightest. Even though she was tired and worn out, Merida found it easy to pick her up, bridal-style for the most comfort. She pushed her annoyance due to her heartbeat speeding up to the background and began on the careful descent down the stairs of the ice palace, trailing after Prince Hans and his men towards the exit with the queen in her arms.

"It'll be fine," she whispered to the unconscious woman who'd looked so scared, without quite knowing why. "You'll be okay. We're going to bring back summer."

If she said it often enough, thought it often enough, she'd start to believe it, and it could come true. Magic had strange ways. Merida held on to the queen tighter, and steadied herself for the cold journey back to Arendelle, wishing once more to see its summer again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should've let him fall, Mer. Should've let him fall...


	4. The execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Princess Anna returns to her castle in a bad state, Arendelle's ad interim council has to make an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4! Enjoy!

It wasn't warm in Arendelle's castle, but compared to the ice palace Merida had visited, it was as comfortable as it could get. Though the resources were dwindling, castle servants Kai and Gerda had offered her, the prince and the guards hot chocolate upon their safe return, which the Princess of Dunbroch was grateful for. She sat in the council chamber now, with her mother and a few other dignitaries, stirring her drink and holding on to her cup for the little warmth it gave her.

A small fire crackled in the hearth behind her, but it was as if the cold had attached itself to her and refused to let go. Merida wondered if she would ever feel warm again. It was a silly thought, but the cold had been so strong and draining she had a hard time remembering what summer had been like. When she tried to recall the memories of standing on a ship on a summer's day, feeling the sun on her face with warm Arendelle looming in the distance, all she found was the image of ships frozen stuck in a fjord, snow-laden streets and people wandering them with chattering teeth.

"Are you okay?"

Was anyone okay? They were still trapped in an eternal winter, freezing to a slow death in a foreign kingdom, and Princess Anna… Princess Anna…

Merida closed her eyes for a second and took a sip of her hot chocolate to stop herself from lashing out at Queen Elinor. "Yeah. Just cold."

"What happened in the mountains?"

She set her cup down on the long table harder than intended, shocking a few unsuspecting dignitaries. She shot them a glare, and they went back to what they'd been doing. "Do we _really_ need to talk about this now?"

Queen Elinor held her hands up in defense, backing down. "Only if you want to. I wasn't aware it was… sensitive."

Merida sighed. "I just need some time."

She loved adventures, but she hated the cost. Thrills never came for free. She loved the wonderful experiences and sights an adventure could give her, but the scars and the damage… she could do without that. She could have lived just fine without the image of the bear seared into her brain, without the snowman's roaring pounding in her skull, without the ever-present cold never leaving her alone. 

It had to sink in. She had to give it time. She stared out of the window of the council chamber, overlooking bleak winter streets filled with an eerie quiet, deserted by citizens who hungered for whatever warmth was left in their homes. The snow had ceased to fall, at least, but it was a minor comfort. In fact, there hadn't been much comfort since Princess Anna had returned.

Not long after her own return to Arendelle, when Merida had been lost in the chaos of curious dignitaries watching as Hans had Queen Elsa sent towards the dungeons, the Princess of Arendelle had come home. A mountain man and his reindeer had brought her in, yelling at the gates that the princess needed to be cared for, brought to her fiancé. Merida had watched Princess Anna be taken from him, the doors shutting in his face. The princess herself…

Princess Anna had _radiated_ cold, as if she was her sister instead of her regular self. Her hair had grown white and frost coated her cheeks, and she kept her hand over her heart as if she'd been trying to keep it warm. She had been weak and tired, with sunken eyes and a voice more fragile and thin than Merida had heard in years. She'd begged to be taken to Hans, blabbering about a true love's kiss. Merida thought the frost had gotten into the poor girl's mind at first, but it quickly dawned on her that there was magic inside of her, magic eating her alive from the inside out.

The princess had been carried to the library, where Prince Hans would be brought to see her as soon as he'd finished talking to Queen Elsa in the dungeons. Neither him nor his fiancée had been seen since.

Silence came over the council chamber, as if the handful of foreign dignitaries in the room had read her thoughts and shut their mouths out of respect for Princess Anna's tragic condition. Merida's fingers tapped a rhythm on the long, wooden table she sat at, and she glanced at the clock once every ten seconds, waiting for any news, for Prince Hans to come in and tell them everything was fine. That Princess Anna was healing, and that Queen Elsa had figured out how to thaw Arendelle's winter, and that the sun would shine again. The waiting drove her crazy, but at least it kept her mind off of the cold still gnawing away at her insides.

When Prince Hans finally came in, a solemn and saddened expression on his face and his gloved hands coated with frost, the little hope that had bloomed in her disappeared like snow in sunlight. The prince's lips moved, speaking words, but there was no sound. He walked, no, _staggered_ towards their table, ignoring all of the dignitaries' eyes on him. He plopped down in a chair the Irishman Queen Elinor had spoken to on the fateful Coronation Day pulled out for him and placed his head in his hands.

"Prince Hans? What happened?"

For once, Merida didn't want to throttle the Duke of Weselton for speaking. She watched the prince and waited for his answer, eager to hear it.

"Princess Anna is… dead." Prince Hans had never sounded so defeated before. He swallowed hard, leaned on the table for support. "She was killed by Queen Elsa."

A collective gasp rang through the room as his audience processed the news. Merida used all her self-control to stop herself from punching the table, or a wall, or perhaps even the annoying little duke. She hadn't known Princess Anna well, but the girl had been kind, and she had presented herself like a warm light in the cold darkness Arendelle had lived in since the coronation. But her light had been extinguished, like Merida's ability to feel warmth.

"Her own sister…" said the duke, incredulous. Merida couldn't believe it either. Princess Anna had been so convinced her sister wouldn't hurt her, and Queen Elsa, with her soft voice and anxious glances, had seemed about as threatening as a shy kitten, always scared rather than angry and murderous.

Well… that wasn't true, now, was it? Merida had seen it with her own two eyes. The duke's men who'd accompanied her and Prince Hans to the North Mountain had met a darker side of the queen. One of them had almost had his throat punctured by sharp icicles, and the other would have met a fate similar to that of the large snowman. Queen Elsa had been ready to kill them. But then again, Merida herself had contemplated letting Prince Hans fall, and the queen, if the crossbow incident was anything to go by, had been acting out of self-defense…

She didn't know what to think anymore.

Prince Hans found the courage to continue, somewhere deep inside of him. "At least we got to say our marriage vows... before she died in my arms."

If Queen Elsa was a killer, imprisoned in the dungeons, her right to the throne would be disputed. With Princess Anna dead and gone, it left Hans, her husband, as legal ruler of Arendelle. _Something_ tugged at the back of Merida's mind, as if she'd overlooked a detail, but the cold was crippling and her grief over Arendelle's deceased princess was harder to stomach than she'd anticipated. It was strange to think the girl, who had been only a few years younger than Merida herself, could have been gone so soon. She had been healthy when she'd left the safety of her kingdom, and she'd returned weak and cold, her body deteriorating under the magic's strain at high speeds. And now she was dead.

"What do you think would be the most appropriate course of action?" Queen Elinor, like a true Scot, showed her no-nonsense attitude, which Merida appreciated. When there was a problem, it needed to be solved. Straight to the point, no beating around the bush. They could talk and mourn all day, but life went on, and action needed to be taken.

Prince Hans sighed. "With a heavy heart, I charge Queen Elsa of Arendelle with treason and sentence her to death."

Clear language. _Appropriate_ language. If the queen had murdered her sister with malicious intent, killing the bitch once wouldn't have been enough. And yet, it didn't sit well with the redhead. Maybe it was because she was inclined to distrust Hans and his smooth-talking skills, but it felt wrong to have the queen killed. Merida couldn't explain it, but something was off. It was a gut feeling, an instinct. Why was Prince Hans the sole person who had spoken to the queen? Why had he been the one man to witness Princess Anna die?

"Does Arendelle maintain the death penalty?" asked a man with a strong, French accent.

The prince nodded ever so slightly. "It hasn't been carried out for centuries. This is a peaceful kingdom, but with the way things are now…" his eyes drifted to the window, overlooking his new, icy kingdom of isolation. He didn't finish his sentence.

"No guillotine," the Frenchman began, "and no executioner?"

"I'd perform the execution myself, but…" Prince Hans shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "My mind is racing, my thoughts are rushing everywhere. The execution needs to happen as soon as possible, to stop this winter and get us out of harm's way, but if you'll forgive me… my wife just _died_. And I couldn't… I couldn't keep her warm."

Distraught and broken, he didn't look so threatening anymore. The clever bastard she'd seen before had disappeared, replaced by a little boy on the verge of crying and screaming his lungs out for justice. The sight of him made Merida want to declare war on those who'd hurt him and his wife, and… and…

 _Off_. It was off.

"Could we send a guard to do it? Could they handle it? Killing the ruler they'd sworn to protect?"

Discussion rose in the room as the dignitaries began squabbling amongst themselves, loudly voicing their opinions on what was the next right thing to do. Merida remained quiet, knowing her mother was more suited to dealing with this kind of chaos. She was tired, and still so _cold_ , and all she wanted was to sleep, because she hadn't slept long or well in days, and she wanted to forget, and die of hypothermia as soon as possible if that was her inevitable destiny. Not all fates could be changed, she supposed, as much as she hated to admit it.

She began paying attention again when Prince, no, _King_ Hans, motioned for silence. "I know," he started, tentative at first, "I know who could do this." He turned to her. "Princess Merida, you claim to be gifted with the ways of the sword. We've battled together, travelled together, and there's a chance I owe you my life. The honour of taking Queen Elsa's life, by all means, should be yours. I trust you're qualified for the job, and I trust you'll serve this kingdom as you've done before. Please, accept the responsibility."

Clever, _clever_ bastard.

Merida was at a loss for words. She spotted the slightest hint of sadistic amusement hidden in those mourning eyes, and she knew she was being played with once again. It was yet another insult aimed at her, wrapped up into a neat little package of innocent compliments. Noble King Hans, ruling fair and just, honouring the royal companion who saved his life in battle, presenting her with a proposal she couldn't decline if she wanted to, not if she wanted to avoid defiling her kingdom's honour and her own respectability. Within seconds, Arendelle's Golden Boy with the silver tongue had turned a council chamber into a puppet show, with himself as puppeteer.

Her mother did not look happy with the new development. Her eyes shot fire, and when she spoke, Merida could hear she was restraining herself more than ever before. "My daughter is a _princess_ , not a butcher."

"'Butcher' is too crude a term, Queen Elinor," said the new king, once again working miracles with his voice. "Carrying out an execution is one of the most honourable jobs there is. It requires strength and skill, and it's not for the faint of heart. On the Southern Isles, an executioner earns _respect_."

Merida couldn't say she had much of a mind to go and lop Queen Elsa's head off. In fact, the feeling she'd had that something was wrong only grew stronger. Good King Hans was fooling them somehow, she was sure of it. _If you wanted to play power's game, you should have come better prepared._ He had been right. She had to prepare herself, figure out what he'd done and what he hoped to achieve. If Princess Anna had died like he said, which wasn't hard to believe considering the condition she'd been in, that left only the queen to talk to for an honest answer. And the queen…

"I'll do it." She ignored her mother's eyes widening in shock and crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair. With all the feigned nonchalance she could manage, she kept her adrenaline at bay. "Got my sword with me, anyways. I'll go right for the dungeons, and…" she hit the table with the palm of her hand, startling the Duke of Weselton, to her delight.

Even King Hans seemed surprised at her willingness to accept his offer. Relieved, as if a great burden had been taken off his shoulders, he said: "Thank you. I'll see to it that you're rewarded for your commitment." He stood up, folded his hands behind his back. "If you would all excuse me, I… I need some air."

No protesting of any kind. The dignitaries had accepted the king's decisions, or they'd at least played pretend. You never knew for sure when it came to European royalty.

When King Hans left, Merida stood up to make for the dungeons, but Queen Elinor grabbed her hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "You don't have to," she said with a soft voice. "It's not worth it."

She had to speak to the queen, she _had_ to. She had to see for herself what Queen Elsa had become: a monster, or the victim of a malicious prince from the Southern Isles. She'd told herself before, on Coronation Day, that she'd judge the magic before trusting it, but that meant she also had to judge the magic before choosing to distrust it.

With all the confidence she had inside of her, she looked her mother in the eyes, giving her a small smile as she pulled her hand away slowly. "Except it is."

For the first time in days, the cold didn't bother her. She took her sword, left for the dungeons, and refused to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hans continues to be a bitch. But let's be real, what else is new?


	5. Of dungeons and blizzards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida goes to face Queen Elsa in the dungeons and makes an important decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted 25 minutes late :') I almost feel ashamed. Homework was a bitch.
> 
> Enjoy anyway

The dungeons were dank and musty, and the cold intensified with every step she took, still seeping into her bones even though she'd grown used it.

She'd expected more noise.

Dungeons in Dunbroch were _necessary_ , filled to the brim with brawlers, thieves, smugglers and killers and scoundrels of any other kind. Merida shared her home with many criminals, minor and major, and it showed in the dungeons. The prisoners would call for their release, swearing and howling and beating against their doors at all times, and when they were brought dry bread and water, they pleaded for more on their knees, smiling brightly with their brown, sometimes blood-stained teeth, if they hadn't lost those. They wore rags and didn't wash themselves, and when they shot their bloody smiles when they still could, their eyes told anyone passing by that their throats would be slit if they dared come to close.

It wasn't that the dungeons in Dunbroch scared her. Not at all. With her bow and arrows and sword, she knew she could defend herself against whatever unlucky fool would try to take his chance and hurt her. But the noise was haunting and what she saw tended to stay with her, painting ugly pictures in her dreams when her nights decided to be cruel. No, dungeons had never been and would never become her favourite place.They had a habit of making her feel trapped, even though she knew she could come and go as she pleased.

In Arendelle, dungeons were different, colder and empty. Merida walked past rows and rows of unoccupied cells, remnants of a time in which the Norwegian kingdom had been a far more chaotic place. It was weird to think that idyllic Arendelle hadn't always been as quiet and calm as it had been when she first arrived. It was peaceful these days, as new King Hans of Arendelle had said, his words for once the complete truth. All that disturbed the eerie silence in the empty dungeons, was the rattling of chains in the distance.

Queen Elsa had been shoved into a cell in the far back. All Merida had to do to find her, was follow the noise. She clutched her sword tighter as her numb fingers fumbled with the key and the lock, unsure of what she'd find, and she took a deep breath upon entering the cell.

The sleepy guard who'd given her the key to Queen Elsa's new, luxurious room had told her not to be worried. The queen, though potentially still dangerous, had been chained, and her cold hands could 'no longer cause harm'. It had made Merida wonder, for a brief second, if Hans had ordered her hands to be cut off, but then remembered neither Arendelle nor the Southern Isles would resort to such resolutions. Besides, there would have been screaming.

"Get out of here…"

There it was again. The fear. Merida leaned on her sword, her eyes drifting to the walls and the ceiling. Coated with frost, like the chains keeping Queen Elsa in place and the steel encasing her hands. The redhead shivered just looking at it.

"Get out of here what? To protect me from you, or to protect you from me?"

Merida didn't fail to notice how the queen's eyes wandered to the sword she'd arrived with.

"The ice is spreading. You shouldn't be here."

"I don't think I'll start feeling any colder than I do now." She let out a humorless laugh. "You might know why."

The queen tugged at her chains, trying to break free. Why? To kill, or simply to regain the freedom they'd taken from her? Merida had no clue.

"Stop trying to escape while I'm trying to have a conversation with you, Your Majesty."

"It's not _safe_ here for you," Queen Elsa hissed, narrowing her eyes. "You have to go."

Silly, silly. As if orders would have any effect. Merida hadn't followed an order in ages. "I make my own decisions, and I decide to stay. Risk I'm willing to take." She tapped on the cold, stone floor of the dungeon with the tip of her sword. "Would you mind telling me what you discussed with Prince Hans?"

The word 'Hans' was enough to sour the queen's expression even more. The wall to her right began to crack as the ice spread across it. "He… he told me to stop this winter. But I, I, I don't know… _how_. That's what I told him, and… and if you want to ask the same question, the answer remains unchanged."

"You're still working on it?"

"Yes. I promise, if I figure this out, Prince Hans will be the first to hear it, and you will be the second. I just… I need to get out of here, and _fast_. The longer I'm here, the more… the more danger the kingdom is in." Scared, so fucking scared. " _Please_. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Was this the woman who had murdered her sister in cold blood? Merida had trouble believing it. Either Queen Elsa was as gifted at manipulation as the clever bastard with his puppet show, or she was being sincere. But what was she, in the end? The monster or the victim? She had almost killed two men, supposedly her sister too, and she'd created a monstrous snowman to keep unwanted visitors out. And yet, Princess Anna had been so sure of her sister's good nature, and the queen had been kind at her coronation party, and she seemed so scared and she kept going on about not wanting to hurt her kingdom and everyone in it…

The queen sounded sincere, but then again, so did Prince Hans. Princess Anna had trusted her, at least, but that girl had married a man she'd known for a few days, and Merida concluded she didn't actually trust her judgment much. Queen Elsa had almost killed two men, yes, but they'd intended to kill _her_ first. And the magic… it could create awful monsters and eternal winters, but the magnificent view of the ice palace reminded the Scottish princess there was also a certain beauty to it. So many conflicting aspects… what was she to do?

Too many thoughts. She had to stop thinking.

"You won't be telling Prince Hans anything. He's sentenced you to death."

This, of course, shocked the queen. "He did?"

Merida nodded. "Positive."

"I… I can fix this, I swear. I just need to get out of here, and, and…" she sighed, lowered her head. "I can't fix this, can I?"

"You tell me, Your Majesty. Shouldn't be me who needs to get down to business when it comes to ending this madness."

Queen Elsa looked up at the ceiling, where frost still spread, and took a deep breath. "I'll tell you. I'll tell you to end this madness." Her eyes drifted to the sword yet again. "If Prince Hans thinks this is how he can end the winter… he might be right. It might just die with me. So do what you have to do, and I'll ask only one thing of you."

Fullfilling the last wishes of the dying was a practice Merida could get behind. She leaned on her sword again, never taking her eyes off the queen. "And what are you going to ask?"

The queen closed her eyes for a brief second and gave her a melancholic smile. "My sister… make sure she's safe. Make sure she's _happy_."

There was so much sheer affection in those words, so much _warmth_ , that it made Merida wonder if this woman had been given the right magic. And if she was lying, if she knew her sister was dead, she did a great job at acting like she didn't. The only conclusion Merida could reach, was that she hadn't been aware of her sister's death at all. And, said a little voice in her head, that meant she thought Princess Anna had approved of her execution.

Whether or not the Princess of Arendelle would have approved of such a thing wasn't Merida's concern, even though she knew in her heart the princess wouldn't sit still and stay quiet while her lover ordered the death of her last living family member. The real question was: to tell or not to tell? Was it her place to tell her about Princess Anna's fate? The queen deserved the truth instead of lies. And yet, Merida kept her mouth shut. She didn't have the heart to tell her her sister was gone, hopefully to a warmer place.

Goddamn it, she'd gotten soft. 

"She'll be fine, Your Majesty. I promise."

Queen Elsa nodded, a hazy look in her eyes. "Thank you." She sighed, and the frost she created without even trying crawled down her chains, trapping them. "I hope you'll bring summer back, for my sister and my people."

In Dunbroch, no one wanted to die. The Scots looked the Grim Reaper himself in the eye and told him to fuck off whenever opportunity presented itself. Merida was used to fighting to live. You had to fight and fight and _fight_ , without ever stopping, and you would die for no one. Kill? Perhaps. But you weren't obliged to die for neither a friend nor an enemy nor a stranger, and doing such a stupid, noble thing would be… well, it was giving up. Dunbroch _never_ gave up.

But this queen from a kingdom Merida knew so little about was different. She'd resigned to her fate, accepted it. There was no resistance, no protest, no anger. Only the ever-present fear, and the complete willingness to _die_. Queen Elsa would accept her own, young death if it meant her sister and her kingdom filled with people she'd never even spoken to could be safe and happy.

Had this woman _really_ been capable of killing her own sister?

Merida grit her teeth. It was useless to get lost in another vicious cycle of spiralling, useless thoughts. She could stand in the dungeon for hours, pondering and leaning on that damned sword as she slowly froze, but she'd be trying to solve a riddle that had no answer. Thinking had never gotten her anywhere, and she had to make a decision, fast, or she'd end up walking away without doing anything at all.

If she couldn't trust her brain, she had to trust her instincts. Her emotions, her intuition. She had to do what _felt_ right rather than dwell on the potential consequences of whatever choice she made.

She raised her sword to strike. The queen closed her eyes, but didn't flinch, as rigid as the beautiful, dangerous ice she could create with such ease.

A loud clanging echoed through the dungeons as the blow landed, the blade of her sword meeting its target. For once, she thanked the cold; it had weakened the queen's chains like it had weakened her people. And that weakness was important, for it determined the outcome of Merida's decision.

Queen Elsa opened her eyes after realizing she wasn't bleeding out or in pain, and stared at the broken chains on the floor. Ice ripped through the steel encasing her hands, and it also fell to the ground. The queen was free.

"Bringing summer back is your job rather than mine, isn't it?" Merida gave Queen Elsa a wry smile, gripping the hilt of her sword tighter. "I trust you can put an end to this some other way. If you need to go back up to that godforsaken mountain of yours to fix this mess, go. Whatever you need to do, do it."

Was it appropriate to speak to a queen like that? She assumed it wasn't. When had she started caring about that, anyway? She stood in a frosted-over prison cell with a magical, _beautiful_ queen, discussing the weather, in a sense. These were no circumstances for keeping up appearances.

"You can't… I don't know how to… I don't know how to thaw Arendelle. I, I told you, didn't I?"

"Did you know it's possible to change destiny itself?"

The queen hadn't been expecting that question. Merida could see it in her eyes. "What?"

"Did you know it's possible to change destiny itself?" She repeated, placing all the confidence she had into her words. The wall in front of her cracked, magic ice eating its way through it. "I didn't think it could be done, but I did it anyway, and I'm no one compared to you. So if I can change my fate, you can change yours, and you can _certainly_ thaw this winter if you try."  
  
It took a few seconds for those words to sink in. Merida could almost hear the gears in Queen Elsa's head turn, processing what she'd been told. 

"I need to get out of here," the queen said with a thoughtful expression, not for the first time. The cracks in the wall behind her grew larger, allowing more cold inside. "I need to stay away from this kingdom until I fix this. And I _will_ fix this, one way or another."

Whether it was the magic acting on its own or the queen controlling it, Merida couldn't tell. It didn't matter. The magic tore the dungeon cell's wall straight down, leaving nothing but a gaping hole. A way out. The redhead overlooked the fjord for as far as was possible. A blizzard raged outside, blowing cold into her face and sending snowflakes flying everywhere.

Queen Elsa turned away from her, faced the cold. Stopped, turned back to her again. "It just occurred to me," she said, "that you can't _do_ this. You're defying the prince's orders, and he'll point at you and call it treason. He'll see to it that you'll be reduced to nothing."

The clever bastard hadn't been that hard to figure out, once Merida had gotten used to his antics. She knew the queen was right, but what was there to say? She shrugged, her eyes following the snowflakes that flew in the direction of her hair, and she motioned for her companion to leave.

"I said I make my own decisions, Your Majesty, and I like what I chose. It's up to you to make it count."

She turned and left before the queen could answer, tired of talking and the perpetual cold she couldn't be rid of. The temperature in the dungeons hadn't climbed any higher, what with its lost wall and all. She walked the same, quiet route back to the staircase leading to the upper floors of the castle at a fast pace, hoping Queen Elsa wouldn't run into Prince Hans outside.

Upon reaching the sleepy guard she'd spoken to before, she tossed him his keys, eager to be rid of them. "Killer Queen's escaped," she told him coolly. "Go tell your new king."

Before the newly-alerted guard could stammer a reply, Merida was already rushing up the stairs in search of warmth. It surprised her the guard hadn't heard the cell's wall fall, but she supposed the howling of the blizzard outside had covered up the noise. In any case, the man would go check for himself if what she'd said was the truth, even if he could have known of her honesty by looking at her clothes, not defiled by bloodstains. He would see the queen had escaped, and Merida prayed he would think she'd done it all on her own, without any help. If not…

No. It was perfectly plausible to think Queen Elsa had ran on her own accord. She was a sorceress, for God's sake, and Merida was confident she could have broken her chains herself if she'd tried. Besides, the princess had been so kind to tell the guard of the unfortunate escape instead of trying to cover it up. All she still had to do was keep up appearances, as her mother had tried to teach her; if she could put on a frustrated frown before entering the council chamber again, she could feign anger at not having had a chance to kill Queen Elsa, and then the dignitaries would have her back, whether they knew it or not.

Fucking hell, she was starting to think like Hans. Why couldn't foreign kingdoms be simple like Dunbroch, where political intrigue and deception played but a minor role in her life? Why couldn't people in other parts of Europe simply solve their problems with a good punch to the face? It would have worked if her father had been there…

Her train of thought got derailed by the ice creeping up the castle's walls.

Merida blinked and stood still, her eyes roaming the hall she stood in. Were those… _icicles_ , sprouting from the ceiling and the floor? She darted aside to avoid one piercing her foot, cursing under her breath. Was this Queen Elsa's work? Had it been the wrong decision to free her after all?

On the other side of the hallway, she heard a voice. Male, not one she recognized. A dignitary she hadn't spoken to? Either way, rushing in his direction seemed as good an idea as any. She ran, evading sharp icicles as she went, to demand an explanation or warn the dignitary that inside had grown as cold and dangerous as outside.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the speaker and his companion.

"Hi there!" said the snowman, way too enthusiastic for her liking. "Nice to meet you, but we're in the middle of something here, so goodbye!" He pulled a human girl along with his arm, no, his _branch_ , skipping past the Scottish princess as if she was a harmless obstacle instead of an annoyed woman with a gleaming sword.

And that girl he was pulling along… that was Princess Anna.

Merida hadn't been able to forget the weak-looking girl in the mountain man's arms, and she recognized the Princess of Arendelle immediately. Her health had deteriorated even more: she radiated cold like before, but her hair had turned a dull, snow-white colour, and rime crept up her cheeks, invading her pretty face. The redhead watched them go, baffled, her mouth hanging open. Princess Anna was _alive_.

 _Bastard_.

More icicles shot out of the ceiling and the floor, as if the castle itself had revolted. It blocked the direction the snowman and the princess were racing in off entirely, leaving the snowman to come to a quick halt and turn back. "Whoops! Not that way!"

Princess stumbled after the snowman, glancing at Merida, and recognition shone in her eyes. "Princess… Merida…" 

Hearing how difficult it was for Arendelle's princess to speak the words broke Merida's heart, but she answered anyway, by kneeling in front of the snowman and blocking him in his path. "Slow down for a second, will you? Can anyone explain to me what the _hell_ is going on?"

She kept watching the ever-advancing icicles from the corner of her eye, but didn't lose sight of the snowman. A living, breathing, walking, talking snowman. Okay, Queen Elsa had created a snow guard to keep unwanted visitors away from her castle, but this was different. This snowman had zero business being here, and it wasn't built for any specific reason Merida could uncover. It was nothing but, well… a snowman.

"Anna needs her act of true love, so we need to find it!"

Merida had to admit she was surprised the snowman understood and spoke English. In fact, she still wasn't over the fact that the snowman spoke at all, but she wouldn't complain. If Queen Elsa had made this creature, it was only natural that it spoke the same languages as her. And even if she had no clue what the hell he meant, going on about this true love's act, she had no choice but to play along.

"I gather Hans isn't the true love, then?"

Clever bastard Hans had come for the council chamber, a broken man who'd lost his wife. But his wife, if the marriage hadn't been yet another lie, stood in front of Merida, weak and freezing and _dying_ , but still alive. Hans had lied, and the proof was right there next to her.

The snowman shook his head. "Nuh-uh. We need the valiant, pungent reindeer king instead!"

Merida decided to stop asking questions. If the trip to Arendelle had taught her anything, it was that living in blissful ignorance was better sometimes.

"Olaf… Tell Princess Merida…" 

That Princess Anna was still able to speak to her in English was also baffling, though Merida presumed the girl wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. Thinking fast, she knew what the request would be.

"I'll help you," she said, relieving Olaf the snowman of his princess-supporting duties and slinging an arm around Princess Anna's shoulder. She ignored the blinding cold ripping through her upon touching the girl, white pain that hadn't bothered the snowman flashing before her eyes, and looked around for an exit.

"Oh, that's inconvenient," Olaf stated. Merida turned in his direction to see that the other end of the hallway had been blocked off by icicles, too. She moved Princess Anna along, making her duck for yet another icicle aiming for her head as if she was an ice magnet, and she tried her hardest to think. The cold was debilitating, but that hadn't stopped her before. Clutching Princess Anna tighter, trying in vain to keep the girl warm, she gritted her teeth.

_The windows._

It was madness, but so was their entire situation, and it was the best 'plan' she had. "Olaf, she shouted, "open up a window!"

For a brief second, she feared the snowman would ask her why she thought they needed fresh air, but Olaf did as he was bid. He waddled to the nearest window as fast as he could and opened it, letting the cold blizzard and its howling into the castle. Merida looked outside, saw nothing but white and snow, and wondered if this was the stupidest thing she'd done in her entire life.

"On the roof," she told the snowman, motioning for him to go first. If he fell, he would be okay, but the same couldn't be said for the two princesses. With one last glance at the hallway filled with sharp icicles ready to impale them, she tugged at Princess Anna's hand, holding on to her frozen fingers and leading her through the window and onto the roof in the safest way possible, as if they were practicing an elaborate dance.

The wind cut and it was hard to breathe, even harder than it had been on the North Mountain. Whenever Merida opened her mouth to speak, she ended up with snow in her throat, cold enough to choke her. The blizzard roared all around them, and Merida could barely make out Olaf yelling at her, telling her there was so much snow it was safe to slide down from the roof.

"Your reindeer king," she began, talking to Princess Anna to keep her from slipping away into a cold she wouldn't return from. It kept the girl alert and distracted her from death hovering over them, and it gave Merida a reason to think of anything other than winter raging all around her. "Your mountain man. Tell me about him. I want to know everything."

She didn't care about the mountain man, who he was or who he'd been to Princess Anna, but if it kept the girl awake and breathing, she'd listen to every single detail about him the princess could give her, from his favourite food to the way he picked his nose (All men did it, she'd heard Macintosh say once while he tried to seduce a servant girl. It hadn't worked.). She waited for an answer with all the patience she could manage, frowning, searching for the best spot to place her feet in order to keep the pair of them from falling down.

"Kristoff…" said Princess Anna, her lips, blue from the sub-zero temperatures, forming a small smile. "He has a reindeer… Sven… and he talks to him… cute… and he, he plays… piano, no wait, lute, and, and…"

The princess kept talking through her frozen delirium, sharing the life of Kristoff the mountain man as Merida nodded along, guiding her down to safe ground. They could have jumped, she supposed, but she didn't want to damage the queen's sister more than was necessary, and she thought it too high a risk. 

By the time she felt solid ground under her feet again, the wind ringing in her ears and Olaf yelling at her to follow him through the storm, Merida noticed the princess had stopped speaking English, that she'd switched to Norwegian somewhere along the way, the foreign language having grown too difficult for her to continue in. She kept murmuring in her native tongue, unintelligible nothings Merida couldn't make sense of, but at least she was still talking.

"Go on, princess," the redhead mumbled, "just a bit more." Princess Anna was so cold, and so was the storm, and the kingdom, and everything she could ever remember knowing, and it _hurt_ , fuck, it did. It was the Princess of Arendelle who was freezing, but Merida felt as if she was freezing along with her, all her organs trapped in ice like the kingdom itself, her hands red with ice burn and her mind numbed in the snowstorm.

It was hard to keep track of Olaf the talking snowman's movements, his small body often disappearing in the swirling snow. Whenever Merida lost sight of him, when her eyes didn't do what she wanted and the snow seemed to eat him right up, she thought he'd fallen through the ice covering the fjord. Yet, he resurfaced every time, and she and Princess Anna kept shuffling after him, past ships frozen stuck and the occasional hole in the ice, trying to reach a mountain man she hoped was there .

Strangest summer of her life didn't quite cover it. Merida had attended a coronation, and it had left her trapped in a freezing kingdom to mess with lying princes, fight snow monsters, and release magical queens from their prisons. She would have laughed at how strange it was, if she'd still had the energy to do so. But she began to realize how exhausted she was, every single step she took becoming more of an effort, and all she could still do was ignore the searing pain of the frost and gaze off into the distance with a blank stare, looking out for Kristoff the mountain man.

Was that… Was that…? Yes!

Merida had never seen a reindeer in the flesh before, but she figured they looked like, well… deer. This animal, brown and furry and sporting antlers, had to be a reindeer, and the Kristoff Princess Anna spoke of owned a reindeer. The man sitting on the reindeer, then, had to be Kristoff. His shaggy blond hair flew everywhere in the wind as he raced through the storm towards them, his face contorted in determination to reach his goal. Olaf jumped to get his attention, waving his branch arms to guide him in the right direction.

And the storm stilled.

The snow stopped swirling and fell down as if it had never moved before, and the raging wind's howling died, replaced by the eerie silence that ruled the kingdom ever since it had been trapped.

"Kristoff!" Olaf shouted, still jumping and waving, his voice ringing clear in the quiet air.

As if shot, Kristoff moved forward, jumping off his reindeer's back to run towards Anna. Merida wondered how he managed not to fall, but she imagined adrenaline had somerhing to do with it. She tore her gaze away from him, however, when she felt Princess Anna stir, loosening her grip on her.

Merida followed the shivering, weak princess' look to the left, and what she saw stunned her. Her initial fear had come true. Hans had found Queen Elsa.

With his sword raised high in the air and a cruel, eager smile plastered on his face, he readied himself to strike. The queen, on her knees on the fjord she'd frozen herself, didn't notice, or at least pretended not to. She seemed sick with grief, and Merida could only guess why that was. A part of her whispered that the queen would have heard Hans unsheathe his sword, seeing as Princess Anna must have heard it too, but she ignored it, refusing to believe Queen Elsa still wanted to die. And dying was what she would be doing, Merida was sure of that.

She almost lost her balance when she felt Princess Anna struggle out of her grip on the girl's shoulder. Weakened by the cold, Merida could only watch, stunned and helpless, as the princess ran towards her sister, towards a certain death with all the strength she could still bring up.

The shattering of steel broke through Arendelle's ominous silence, broke like Hans' sword did when it came into contact with Princess Anna. Or, Merida corrected herself, the statue that had once been Princess Anna; upon reaching her sister, the girl froze solid, cold ice spreading all over her body until it consumed her whole, leaving nothing but a hardened, empty shell of what was once a person, winter's victim. Hans' blow landed, but not on Queen Elsa, and the impact of his sword hitting the princess and breaking sent him flying backwards, his head falling back against the ice of the fjord. He lay there, remaining still, but no one came to check up on him.

Quiet fell again, only soiled by Queen Elsa's sobbing.

Kristoff and his reindeer inched closer towards the mourning queen and the statue that had once been her sister, their expressions sad and broken. Merida, too, took a few steps towards the queen, even though her legs protested and her entire body had gone numb from the cold. The closer she came to the queen and the princess, the colder she got; Princess Anna radiated cold even now. But the redhead pushed through her exhaustion and her pain, gritting her teeth and moving along.

When she found herself standing next to Kristoff, she could finally get a good look at Princess Anna, the statue. The girl had her hand raised in a motion for Hans to stop, protecting her sister even in death, and her expression pleaded for him to show mercy, a mercy he hadn't given her. Merida felt like kicking the unconscious prince, but decided the time wasn't right. It occurred to her that Princess Anna had _died_. For real, this time. This time, her death hadn't been a power-hungry prince's lie. This time, Merida had seen her die, and a death like this one… though she knew much of magic, she didn't think there was a kind strong enough to bring the dead back to life.

Shivering, she turned to the castle, where she spotted her mother standing on a balcony, along with the Frenchman and other dignitaries whose names and titles she'd heard, but never bothered to remember. They stood stiff and still, watching the sad scene below on the fjord play out without being able to do anything about it. They were as helpless as Merida felt.

Fuck, she wanted to kick something, a ship or whatever, or break something or use her sword to stab Prince Hans right through the stomach. But she was cold and tired and felt as broken as the pieces of the clever bastard's sword scattered around her feet, and it was too fucking _quiet_ to start screaming now. She tried counting to ten, to twenty, but kept losing track of her thoughts and had to start all over again from zero each time, too caught up in feeling pain and injustice for people she didn't even know well.

When she, still full of rage, turned back to the queen and her sister, what she saw blew her mind. Princess Anna was _thawing_. The ice receded, fading away, as the girl began to turn back into her own, old self, healthier than she'd probably been in a long time.

And Merida remembered. She remembered a coronation followed by a buffet filled with too many strange dishes, and being amazed by street lights and happy people walking past them, and laughing as Princess Anna spun around the dancefloor with the tiny duke in an overcrowded hot ballroom, back when the night hadn't yet taken a turn for the worse. She remembered a magnificent palace made of ice, illuminated by the last, dying rays of sunlight, and how her mother had been so seasick while travelling to the pretty, foreign kingdom that loomed in the distance, and standing in the sun on the deck of a ship full of excitement on a pleasant summer's day, and she remembered what it was like to feel _warm_. 

She thought she was smiling, for the first time in days, and then she wasn't thinking at all anymore. Exhaustion took over and the world around her spun, fading, as she felt the last shreds of consciousness she'd been holding on to slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sacrificing my good night's rest for this. Does it show?


	6. Extension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida has an appointment with Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On time today. Proud?

Summer in Arendelle truly was warm.

Seated on the balcony as she was, Merida had a perfect view of the kingdom as she lounged in the sun. She heard voices rising up, speaking in happy Norwegian she could barely understand, and on the thawed fjord in the distance, she saw the last ships of visiting dignitaries leave, huge vessels cutting through clear, blue waters, disturbing the calmth and leaving waves in their wake. The train, which ran again, had brought supplies, and she could smell the scent of freshly-baked bread rising up, signalling the recovery of the kingdom that had been ravaged by winter mere days before.

When she'd woken up a few days back, she'd found herself under the soft covers of a bed she didn't recognize. A servant had brought her something to eat, and her mother had barged in with zero lady-like dignity left, coming in for a hug as strong as those of Fergus the Bear King. And they'd talked, for Merida didn't know how long, discussing all that had happened and everything still to come.

It was then that Merida heard that Prince Hans had been sent along with the Frenchman as a prisoner (she hoped he'd end under a guillotine), and that the Duke of Weselton was no longer Arendelle's trading partner (good for him), and that the kingdom had been thawed. She'd jumped out of bed to pull the curtains of her temporary room open, skeptic upon hearing those words, and she saw the Arendelle she'd fallen in love with when she'd arrived: a quaint, pleasant kingdom, brimming with a soft kind of magic as it bathed in sunlight, and even though she could still feel the cutting cold in her bones, she reckoned it would melt away soon, like Arendelle's impromptu winter had done.

Her mother had told her that the queen had been very reasonable, and she thought there would be a bright future for Dunbroch's alliance with Arendelle, and that had given Merida an idea.

Idea…

She tore herself away from her nice spot on the balcony for a second, rising and stepping back inside her room for a look at the clock standing against the wall, and…

Oh, hell no.

Stupid, so stupid. She'd forgotten her appointment. She rushed out of the room, running through the hallways, shoving past unsuspecting servants who yelled at her in what she assumed to be colourful Norwegian while forgetting she was, in fact, a royal visitor. The hallways, which she'd grown to know well in her brief stay, remained devoid of any icicles and talking snowmen this time, which Merida thanked the gods for. She reached the council chamber without any difficulties, though she did find herself out of breath.

With wide eyes, she threw the door open. "Your Majesty! Sorry for making you wait…" 

Queen Elsa looked up from her paperwork, an amused smile playing at her lips as she tapped her pen against the table. "Actually," she said, "you're right on time."

"Fifteen minutes late."

"No," said the queen, growing only more amused. "Your mother told me you have a tendency to be late, so I made sure to schedule our appointment at an earlier time rather than the time I actually wanted to see you. I'm pleased to see the trick worked out well."

"Hm." Merida pulled up a chair to sit opposite of the queen, looking away to hide the blush on her cheeks. Goddamn it, why were some people blessed with intelligence and beauty?

Queen Elsa pushed her paperwork to the side. It rustled beneath her cool fingers, but she didn't pay attention to it. "On time or not, we're here together today because there was something you wanted to discuss with me. I'd like to hear what you have to say to me."

Had she had anything to say? When Merida stared into the queen's eyes long enough, she drowned in them and forgot she'd come out to the council chamber for a reason. "Oh, yeah, right," she muttered. "There's… something I wanted to ask you."

The queen didn't reply. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, motioning for Merida to continue speaking without any words or gestures. The redhead felt her nerves act up, but tried to ignore them to the best of her ability.

"It might be I'm asking for too much," she began, "but there's no harm in trying. The thing is… when we first met at your coronation, I told you your kingdom was magical. And though that statement was pretty awful in hindsight, I _meant_ it. I like it here. So, if it's not too much of a hindrance, I want to extend my stay here."

Queen Elsa didn't say anything, but she did nod along, a thoughtful expression on her face. No new eternal winters had been started yet, and her paperwork hadn't been frozen, which Merida chose to see as a good sign. She kept talking.

"I've talked about it with Mum… Queen Elinor, and she's okay with it. She said it could be good for the new alliance between our kingdoms… and I think she hopes staying here will teach me something new about, hm… fireign kingdoms, diplomacy, that sort of stuff." She smiled for good measure. She'd never before tried to appear that friendly in the eyes of another person, but it seemed like the right thing to do. "But to be honest, if you chose to make me a palace guard or something, I'd be okay with it. I just want to stay a little longer, that's all."

She couldn't tell if her little speech had had any effect at all. The queen blinked a few times as she studied Merida and her attempt at a friendly smile, that thoughtful expression never leaving her face. The redhead feared she really _had_ asked for too much, that she'd been what Hans had told her she was: an insolent, self-important, foolish girl who didn't know her place.

"Mere days ago," Queen Elsa began slowly after too long a silence, "you came to the dungeons, and you made me think you would kill me, keeping your actual intention in the dark for longer than necessary. Furthermore, you put me through a minor panic attack on my coronation, and you considered it a good idea to take my dying sister for a walk on the roof of this very castle in the middle of a snowstorm."

It _did_ sound shitty when put like that, but Merida found it unfair. Why was the queen focusing on naught but her more questionable actions? She'd done good too, hadn't she? She felt her cheeks heat up. "Well, yeah," she began, trying her best to keep her voice calm. "But that's… there was…" 

She fell silent when she noticed the slightest hint of a smile forming on the queen's face. "Wait… are you messing with me, Your Majesty?"

Her question went unanswered, but Queen Elsa's words implied Merida had guessed correctly: "Princess Merida, you've done your best to keep my kingdom and my people safe in my absence. You let me go when you could have killed me as you were told to do, and you risked your life to help my sister, even though there was nothing to gain for you in doing so."

Merida watched the smile on her face grow, and decided the queen had never been that pretty before; smiling in her council chamber, her face illuminated by the light of a summer sun.

"In other words," Queen Elsa finished, "Arendelle owes you. _I_ owe you. And that means you're welcome to stay here as my honoured guest for as long as you'd like."

The sun had warmed Merida before, but now a new warmth coursed through her, one she couldn't place. Did it matter? The most important thing was that she could stay. The idea of exploring this foreign kingdom and getting to know these strange people excited her, and now that the sun shone again, she thought it refreshing to be away from home for a while, to figure out what the rest of the world had to offer and to find her place in it eventually.

"Thanks," she said with a genuine smile, holding out her hand to the queen to seal the deal. A hug would have conveyed her happiness better, but she wouldn't try her luck that much.

Queen Elsa stared down at her outstretched hand as if the gesture intimidated her. Too late, Merida remembered she wasn't used to physical contact at all; her mother had told her Arendelle's young queen had refused to come close to anyone for almost a decade, out of fear of her own magic. The tale had baffled Merida, who wasn't sure if she herself could have survived if she had missed her father's bear hugs for such a long time.

She made to withdraw her hand, mumbling an apology. "I forgot-" she began, but her eyes widened in surprise when the queen answered her attempt at a handshake. 

Her hands were cold, which brought back memories that still lay fresh in Merida's mind, but there was no hostility in the gesture. It was gentler than Merida could ever hope to be, the chill not nearly as biting as the frost had been before, and when their hands parted, she found herself missing the pleasantness of the queen's cool touch.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around then, princess." Queen Elsa gave her a tentative smile while avoiding her gaze and went to collect her paperwork. "I'm looking forward to it."

Merida watched her leave the council chamber, a stupid smile plastered on her face. She couldn't believe she'd been allowed to stay, but it made her happier than ever before. The winter was over, a soft summer had begun, and she figured that, in spite of the earlier pain, it could become the best one of her life.

"Likewise, Your Majesty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all I have so far! I'll be updating the story more in the future, though. Like I said, this was initially the first oneshot in a series, and I can string my ideas for follow-ups together to continue this. 
> 
> Updates will be more sporadic from now on, but if you're familiar with me and my work at this point, you know I'm pretty reliable when it comes to my stories. Even if you need to wait a couple of weeks for an update at times, you know I don't leave any story I started unfinished, and I don't intend to adopt that habit now.
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed this first part! And if you have anything you'd like to see in this story in the future, or you have an idea for a cute scene, you can always leave a suggestion in the comment section! If it's something I can work with and fit into the story, I might just end up using it.
> 
> But for now, so long, dear reader! 'Till next time!


	7. Chapter 7: The cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida finds herself checking up on a sick Queen Elsa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... have I been neglecting this fic?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Do I intend to do so again in the future?
> 
> Definitely not!
> 
> I'll see if I can update this more frequently; I'll be damned if it means slower updates on my other works, but it's okay. For now, enjoy this chapter!

If someone were to ask her, Merida didn't think she could pinpoint the exact moment Arendelle began to feel like home. Was it after the first month she'd spent there, when she'd dedicated large chunks of her time to sightseeing in town and wandering through the kingdom's forests and mountains, breathing in the fresh air? Was it a few weeks ago, when the realization that she no longer despised the abundance of fishy foods she had to eat in her new place of residence had crossed her mind? 

Or was there no actual moment she could name at all? Maybe it had been a gradual process for the most part. It could have happened at any time in the many months she'd already stayed in the kingdom: for all she knew the answer she sought lay hidden in calm, quiet conversations with Queen Elsa, or in Princess Anna dragging her along whenever the younger girl stumbled upon something that excited her, or in helping the princess' lover Kristoff with taking care of his reindeer, in spite of the smelly state of both the man and the royal stables, and their inability to have a sensible conversation due to their language differences.

A year. She'd been in Arendelle for a year. If she thought about it for too long, the idea became so foreign to her she was surprised she could still stomach it. In the first few days after her mother had left with a tight hug and a couple encouraging words, Merida had found herself lying awake at night in her guest bedroom, thinking about Dunbroch and the castle she'd grown up in: she recalled the scents of familiar dishes drifting out of the kitchen, and the exhilaration of going out hunting with her father, and loud tales full of magic and folklore told at the dinner table with her mother quirking an amused eyebrow at her family's antics.

She couldn't deny leaving all she'd known behind for an unspecified amount of time hadn't been somewhat difficult, especially since she'd never visited any foreign land besides Arendelle: In Arendelle, the earth felt different beneath her feet, and the food tasted different from what she was used to, and hell, even the air smelled different somehow if she took time to think about it. But in spite of her struggling to understand the Norwegian tongue, in spite of the initial strange feeling she got when watching sunsets from a bedroom window that wasn't her own in a tiny, foreign kingdom, she'd told herself she'd made this decision for a reason and would see it through to the end, no matter the cost.

If she wanted to, she could leave and go home whenever she wanted to. But somehow, the thought of leaving Arendelle permanently already didn't appeal to her in the slightest. Okay, the food wasn't to write home about (though she did, in fact, write home about it; often to complain), but there was something about the kingdom that made her feel like she was where she was _supposed_ to be. As if the wisps in her homeland had whispered to her in her dreams, their faint, blue glow of destiny guiding her back to Arendelle's royal castle whenever her mind wandered to desiring a strong hug from her father or a nice conversation with her mother.

So whenever she spent her time following Queen Elsa around like a bad smell and sat down with her for a pleasant lunch, she forgot every tiny bit of homesickness that had ever tried to lodge itself into her soul, and asked her with pleading eyes if it was okay if she extended her stay. _One more week, Your Majesty. One more month, Your Majesty. I promise I'll be gone after that._ But then she'd catch herself looking out over the Fjord, watching ships sail to and fro as the smell of salty water tickled her nostrils, and she realized she didn't yet have an appetite for returning to Dunbroch. Not at all.

Each time she asked for yet another extension, she expected Queen Elsa, against better judgment, to let all warmth she possessed slip away and assume an icy facade. She pictured she'd hear the words she dreaded, the words she feared could make her physically sick at this point: _The Kingdom of Arendelle and its council feel it's time for you to leave us. It's been fun, but now you should go. Good luck, and we never want to hear from you again._

But each time Merida _did_ ask, Queen Elsa would scrunch up her nose in this adorable way and look up from her meal with that tiny smile that lit up the redhead's world, and she'd say something along the lines of: "Of course it's okay if you want to stay longer. You're a welcome sight around this castle, and I _do_ need someone to have lunch with while my sister is out hiking with her lover, don't I?"

It wasn't like Merida had _never_ gone home, though: she'd gone to see her family and Angus during the Highland Games, and on the anniversary of her parents' marriage, and on her birthday, and for a few official events that required the presence of the heir to Dunbroch's throne. But her visits never lasted long, and she always found herself back in Arendelle within two weeks. Which was why she was still there almost a full year after the Scandinavian kingdom had been trapped in an eternal winter. It was also why she now found herself in said kingdom's council chamber.

"So, to put things into perspective: we're sending diplomats as an external party to the Russian Empire, to help make sure the negotiation talks with those rebels the government there has been dealing with doesn't turn into a bloodbath, but to be sure we don't get roped into a civil war we want no part in, we _will_ make sure to claim we'll remain strictly neutral and are there for the sole purpose of guarding the peace in Europe. Is there anyone who wants to advocate for another course of action to be taken?"

One glance around the chamber told Merida no minister would argue: She and Anna had been debating with the old fools over the Russian issue for at least an hour now, and judging from the bleary looks on the men's faces, they were all dying to go home and have a bath to wash the day's stress away. Merida, who had little business intervening in Arendelle's politics, leaned forward to grab a biscuit from the bowl in the middle of the table and sat back.

The ministers, much to her relief, met Anna's proposal with approving murmurs and tiny nods. Not a single one of them spoke up, which could, according to Merida, have three reasons: They agreed and saw no problems to be a pain about; they didn't want to risk their wives growing too angry at them for bring late for lunch due to prolonged meetings, or they were afraid Merida would throw them all in Sven's stable if they dared to disagree with the new plan of action.

She sure as hell hoped that last option was the case.

"Did I say that right?" Anna asked her with a slight insecurity in her eyes as the ministers left the room on their own pace now that a decision had been made. "Oh, if I messed this up, I can't even… _hide_ anywhere at this point, because Elsa can and will track me down, and then she'll… feed me to the dogs or something."

As far as Merida knew, such a punishment hadn't ever been a thing in Arendelle, let alone in Queen Elsa's Arendelle. It had, however, been a thing in Dunbroch in the distant past, something she now regretted telling Anna about. The last thing she wanted was to be sent home over being responsible for an Arendellian royal's nightmares of a painful death. "I'm sure Queen Elsa won't find anything to complain about in how you're doing your job as regent so far. To be fair, I don't think she can keep her eyes open for long enough to even see what work you did."

A week ago, Anna had celebrated her birthday, which had resulted in a… fun, albeit disaster-filled afternoon. Merida had liked the cake well enough, and she'd barely been able to resist the smell and have a quick taste before it was even allowed, but she'd been less amused when Queen Elsa had come down with a cold and had almost walked off the clocktower. She would've plummeted to a certain death if her sister hadn't grabbed her, and Merida had damn-near had a heart attack.

That said, Merida had found herself agreeing wholeheartedly when Anna had given her sister a stern look and told her to go to bed and stay there until she felt better. Anna had taken on the role as Regent of Arendelle, ruling as the monarch in her sister's stead while the latter recovered from the strong cold beating her down, and if Merida was honest, the girl had done a remarkable job so far: she hadn't let anyone force anything down her throat, listened when listening was required while never being afraid to speak, and sometimes saw opportunities even her sister would have missed.

"Still. I'm convinced she can _smell_ it if I ruin her precious policies or whatever." Anna helped herself to no less than six biscuits from the bowl in front of them. "I mean, I know there's no reason for me to doubt my qualities here, and I know I'll get better at this, but… Well, for now I'll be happy when Elsa comes up to me to tell me she's fit to take over again."

Merida stood up from the table, keeping her gaze trained on her fellow princess. "The queen can smell no such things, so you can stop stress-eating if you want. Trust me when I say there's no need to feel down whatsoever, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Anna replied: "Sure... But in any case… Thank you. I know you'd much rather have been out sightseeing than sitting in these uncomfortable chairs, eating these…" She narrowed her eyes at the near-empty bowl of biscuits. "… _lousy_ biscuits. I guess I'll be cornering the head of our kitchen staff for a word on their quality sometime soon."

The mild disgust in the girl's voice was enough to make Merida laugh. "Don't mention it. Wouldn't be the first time I'm seen in your council chamber, and I don't say no to free food. Lousy as it may be."

Her stay in Arendelle was, after all, not only fun and games: Merida's mother had made sure to hammer that into her brain. Queen Elinor had told her in clear language that she _did_ expect her daughter to at least learn a thing or two about foreign politics, and the look in her eyes had been too stern and terrifying for Merida to consider arguing. 

Thus, she'd tracked Queen Elsa down and asked her over breakfast if she'd feel okay letting a Scottish princess tag along in a couple of her meetings. And Queen Elsa had laughed and said that was okay; their kingdoms were allies and she harboured no secrets she wanted to keep the redhead from seeing.

Most meetings were tedious at most, but Merida, much to her own surprise, did enjoy the majority of them: she spent her time trying not to snort with laughter whenever Queen Elsa raised a defiant eyebrow at one of her ministers, gossiped with the princess about which annoying, conservative old man _really_ got a nasty shock that day, or took a moment to listen and observe so she could provide the queen and her sister with the occasional input of good quality; the smile Queen Elsa would give her then always managed to keep the fire in her heart lit.

"It's good to have you here, Merida," Anna told her, sincerity dripping from her words. "I mean it. With Elsa sick and out of the running, it's… nice to have someone to fall back on. Well, someone who at least has an idea of what she's talking about when it comes to Arendelle's politics, I mean."

Merida smiled to herself, thinking about Anna's lover Kristoff, who she was without a doubt alluding to: while Arendelle's official Ice Master was the princess' main support and refuge along with Queen Elsa, the man didn't even understand the importance of taking a _bath_ more often than once a month, let alone how to give a stuck-up minister a taste of his own medicine.

"Like I said, I'm happy to take some of the pressure placed on you away. I care about this kingdom you have here, and I also happen to be _living_ in it right now, so it does benefit me to make sure ruling it goes smoothly." Merida hesitated for the briefest of seconds, but picked her derailed train of thought up again soon enough. "So if there's anything else you need help with… Say the word and I'm available."

She watched Anna's eyebrows furrow in thought as the younger girl stood up. "If it doesn't interfere with your plans for a late lunch," she began, smoothing out her dress, "then there _is_ something I'd like to ask of you."

Merida had to admit she hadn't expected the princess to have an actual task for her, but she _had_ said she was available, which meant there was no way out now if she'd be saddled up with something dreary. She gave Anna a small nod, motioned with her eyes for her to continue.

"I kind of… promised to have lunch with Kristoff and then help him out with his ice business for a bit. He's busy this time of year, and so am I now that I'm temporarily ruling Arendelle, but my schedule's empty for the rest of the afternoon, so we wanted to spend some time together. But, you know... this meeting turned out way longer than it was supposed to be and I should've been on my way to him already, but I'd feel _awful_ leaving without checking up on Elsa first."

Was that all? Merida had heard the castle's steward Kai say that Princess Anna went to check up on her sister at least seven times a day, and her own observations of the phenomenon confirmed there was truth in those words. But who was she to judge? The princess had missed her older sibling for thirteen years, locked in her cold room as the latter was, so whenever the younger girl grabbed a bowl of soup from a poor, unsuspecting servant and insisted on bringing it to the queen herself, Merida saw no reason to condemn the behaviour. Queen Elsa, after all, didn't seem to mind either.

"If you're asking me if I can check up on your sister in your stead, my lunch can wait," Merida replied, slightly dazed as she spoke the words, trying to figure out when Queen Elsa had become more important than food.

Anna's eyes lit up. "Amazing," she exclaimed, "thank you so, so much! I owe you! I'll… I'll make sure the head chef prepares your favourite food tonight!" She turned around, rushed away, only to stop in the doorway, where she spun back. "Wait, what _is_ your favourite food?"

"Haggis," Merida deadpanned. 

"For real?"

"Nah. Am not a walking stereotype. I think it's apple pie. Get me that for dessert, and we're all good."

Anna gave her a quick thumbs-up, rushed off, and managed to slam her side into the doorknob, which resulted in hissing and a string of curse words that, according to Queen Elinor, should not have a place in a princess' vocabulary. Merida closed her eyes and shook her head with a smile as the Regent of Arendelle belted out a quick goodbye and left her by herself.

With Queen Elsa and the scent of the promised pie on her mind, Merida ditched her usual post-meeting route to the dining room and set out for the bedroom belonging to the queen. The halls of Arendelle's castle, now familiar to her, were quiet, save for the servants milling about, busying themselves with their daily chores. Merida shivered when she remembered how those same halls had looked the previous summer: Snow-covered, coated in wintry danger, jagged ice spikes shooting out of walls, floors and ceilings like arrows seeking a target. This, she reckoned, taking in the calmth around her, was something she could stomach far better.

When she reached Queen Elsa's bedroom, she wasted no time and knocked on the door straight away, loud enough to make sure the queen would hear her. She waited. Received no answer whatsoever. Knocked again.

Silence.

Merida glared at the pristine white door with its elegant, decorative patterns, as if the poor object was to blame for the queen's absence. Goddamn it, was she supposed to stand here and wait for all eternity? Was this what Anna had experienced? This frustration, caused by the view of a closed door?

Except Anna had had to deal with this same closed door for thirteen years. Merida was already contemplating taking an axe to it after what couldn't be much longer than twenty seconds.

Jesus.

All in all, Merida had _not_ postponed lunch for this bullshit. Queen Elsa was used to her impulsive behaviour and directness at this point, so she didn't bother to restrain herself: she grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, letting her irritation roam free, and threw the door open with a little too much force, which produced a noise loud enough to raise the dead.

She was about to apologize to the sick queen for possibly waking her up, but stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes searched the bedroom and found it empty. Queen Elsa wasn't in her bed anymore. The sandwiches brought to her for lunch by the castle's maids lay on a plate placed on her nightstand, untouched, further proving her absence.

Well… At least that meant Merida hadn't woken her up when entering with such ruckus. Still, she found herself blinking fast in confusion when Queen Elsa was nowhere in sight. Where could she even have gone? The last time Merida had spoken to her, one or two days ago, something as simple as taking a bath had left the woman exhausted.

Merida's first instinct was to go look for her in the kitchens, which was one of the places where she herself was inclined to go hang out if the opportunity presented itself to her, but then remembered the promise of food didn't touch Queen Elsa the way it did her; Hell, her sandwiches hadn't even been touched. She pained her mind for a few seconds, trying to recall numerous conversations with the queen to deduce where she could have gone, and reached a conclusion soon enough.

With an ungraceful snort, Merida averted her gaze from the room and left it for what it was. No, the kitchens weren't Queen Elsa's cup of tea. The castle's library _was_. Merida understood that that place would be her best bet, and she set out to go there.

Her footsteps echoed in the halls as she sped through them. She wasn't sure why she was in such a hurry. It wasn't like Queen Elsa couldn't take care of herself, clocktower incident aside; If her sister hadn't saved her from that certain doom, the queen would've been a rotting corpse by now. Still, Merida knew the Queen of Arendelle's thoughts were at least a little less clouded now, and nothing in Arendelle's castle could pose much of a threat. So why did she feel like she could only relax if she saw her host safe and sound?

The thought of something bad having happened to Queen Elsa made her stomach churn and her fingers tremble, as if she was still tainted by the cold of a winter in the middle of summer. When she reached the library, she didn't bother to knock anymore; her patience had already been tried far too much, and the last thing she wanted was to waste time waiting for yet another reply that may not come.

A sense of relief flooded her when she entered and her eyes fell on Queen Elsa, who was seated on a sofa with a book in her lap. The queen looked up at her, sniffling, her body still affected by that nasty cold she'd sustained. The temperature in the room, Merida noticed, fluctuated between hot and cold, as if the library shared in Queen Elsa's fever.

"Hi," the queen croaked, giving her a soft smile. "Aren't you… supposed to be having lunch…?"

Merida, who already felt much better knowing Queen Elsa was doing as fine as she could do in her sick state, shook her head. "No," she answered, her frustration from earlier ebbing out of her tone. "The… The council meeting we held this morning just ended. Anna's gone to go eat something with Kristoff and help him out with his cold business, so… I thought I'd check up on you."

The little laugh Queen Elsa gave her sounded a tad strained, but the amusement on her face was, to Merida, a joy to behold. "How did you know I was here? I reckon you didn't… send out the guards and their dogs to track me down... Right?"

"They'd hate me if I disturbed them on their lunch break. Suppose I have a great sense for finding you, Your Majesty."

Queen Elsa shivered. "There you go again… with your 'Your Majesty." A hint of frustration tinged her voice. "I told you… Just 'Elsa' is fine."

Looking away from her with a slight blush, Merida set out to the small cabinet on the other side of the room, rummaging through its contents to try and find what she sought. "Force of habit," she mumbled, just loud enough for the queen to hear.

Queen Elsa's eyes burned holes into her back. "You never call Anna… 'Your Highness' anymore… So why stick to such formalities with me? No one would hurt you… if you didn't."

It was something Merida could only shrug at, praying the queen wouldn't take note of the red colouring her face when she'd turn around. Of course she didn't believe she'd end up chopped to pieces and served for dinner if she failed to address Arendelle's ruler with official titles, but doing so felt… disrespectful, in a way. Which was strange, because Merida was used to saying whatever she pleased without caring if it disrespected someone or not.

"I see. Will pay more attention to it… Elsa." Her hands found something soft in the cabinet and she pulled out a neatly-folded blanket, fit to keep a sniffling queen warm. Turning back to Queen… No, to _Elsa_ , she didn't fight to stop her concern from taking over, and she handed what she found to the queen upon reaching the sofa. "This may help with the cold. The servants left sandwiches for you in your room, by the way… Want me to go get them for you?"

Elsa shook her head, coughed. "The mere idea of food makes me nauseous right now…. but thank you."

Rendered unable to function like a normal human being, Merida nodded and kept her eyes on the queen, less than willing to go for a less spectacular view. She wondered how it was possible this woman could make her feel so many things with just a few little words.

"Unless you want to keep staring at me… You can have a seat, Merida." Elsa placed her book next to her, leaned back, and wrapped her blanket tighter around her, making herself comfortable. "Or you can go and have that lunch you skipped… I wouldn't want to get in the way of your plans…"

The invitation to sit did not fall on deaf ears. All it took for Merida to plop down on the sofa next to the queen, was one quick glance at her. Who would ever choose _lunch_ over a woman so beautiful, even while sick? Even with her voice hoarse from coughing and her eyes dark and tired from sleeping less than well, Queen Elsa of Arendelle still had an air of elegant attractiveness about her. Not that Merida would ever say that out loud.

She looked the queen in the eyes. "I can sit a little farther away, if you want me to." Despite having shown major improvements when it came to getting closer to people, both in the physical sense and the mental one, Queen Elsa still had boundaries, and the princess wouldn't dare cross them. They'd sat next to each other before, at the dinner table, and in the council chamber, speaking about politics or talking just for the hell of it, but this, with the queen in such a vulnerable state, was something she considered a little more… intimate.

"No. This is fine." 

The sincerity in those words made Merida feel at ease, and she allowed a small smile to creep up her face when it dawned on her that this meant Elsa _trusted_ her. Oh, this had _definitely_ been worth skipping lunch for.

While she pondered the peculiar happiness this realization gave her, Elsa sighed, eyes drifting towards her book. "You and Anna handled the Russian issue…?"

Merida, not knowing what to do with her hands, scratched the side of her nose. "We did. Your sister followed your plan of action and succeeded, so you can be proud. We also reached the conclusion that the head chef's biscuits lack quality."

This was something Elsa laughed at, shifting a little. A little closer to Merida, that was. The princess wasn't sure if her friend even _realised_ she was doing so, but she was more than aware that mentioning it would cause her to retreat. Not wanting that to happen, she held the queen's gaze in the silence that fell, not wanting to let go of that brilliant shade of blue dulled by fever.

"Biscuits aside…" she said, some of her earlier concern welling up again, "…I'm, I'm kind of wondering why you came all the way out here. You're sick, and… It would really be better for you to stay in bed. It's okay if you don't want to tell me, but… Yeah."

 _Something_ sparked in Elsa's eyes, swallowing her fever, chasing the fog out of her mind and leaving her thoughts crystal clear for a split second. Merida recognized that spark: her mother had told her she'd seen it in _her_ eyes countless times. Defiance. Rebellion. The complete unwillingness to eat up anyone's bullshit. Seeing that on Elsa's face unnerved her, but it intrigued her too.

There was a finality to the broken reply Elsa gave her: "I spent thirteen years locked into that godforsaken bedroom, Merida… Staring out of the window… Only leaving to eat or to go to the bathroom… And I… The more time I spend in there now… The more the walls start closing in on me… The more it feels like they're going to crush me…"

The queen coughed, her cold interrupting her speech, and the light in her eyes dimmed. As if on instinct, Merida reached out for her, placed her hands on her shoulders to keep her steady. "It's okay. Elsa, it's okay. Do you need me to bring you a glass of water?"

Much to her relief, Elsa barely flinched beneath her touch. The queen closed her eyes, and for a brief time, Merida thought she'd fallen asleep. Heaven knew she needed some rest. But then, her eyes shot open, and she shook her head. "No… No need for water… I'm, I'm fine," she forced out with some difficulty.

It was Merida's turn to shake her head. She mimicked the sternest look she'd ever seen on her mother's face and took a deep breath. "Fine. No water. But please, do get some rest." Would pleading work? She didn't know, but she was sure she'd see some sort of result soon.

Elsa sniffled, raised an eyebrow. "Just because you're skipping lunch for me… doesn't mean I'll let you send me back to my room…"

"Hey, I know you're not going down without a fight," Merida retorted in a soft tone, "and if I were to start one, I'd lose. I'm not looking to out-stubborn you, not when you're doing that terrifying eyebrow thing. And I'm not sending you back to your room if you don't want to go there, though I _would_ recommend eating those sandwiches when you feel a bit better. But you could… You could sleep here for now too, no?"

"Here…?" 

Judging from how she said it, Merida assumed sleeping in any place other than a bed was a foreign idea to Queen Elsa of Arendelle. The princess, who was prone to closing her eyes for a nap wherever she could (including but not limited to during council meetings), saw it fit to let her fellow royal have a taste of this habit.

With a nod, she said: "Yeah, here. Who cares? It's _your_ castle, after all. I can leave you alone if you want me to, because I _do_ still need to eat something, but I can also… Stay. To protect you from evil fever dreams and all."

Elsa was silent at that, staring at her, blinking slowly. All of a sudden, Merida wondered if she'd said something wrong, thrown herself to the lions. "Your Majes- Elsa? Are you feeling okay?"

"M'fine…" The words sounded slurred, and Merida could see her friend found it difficult to keep her eyes open. "Tired… but fine…"

"You sure you don't want a glass-"

Her voice stopped functioning altogether the moment she felt the queen's body press against her own. Her heartbeat quickened to a great extent when she realized how close their faces were, how _good_ it felt to have Elsa so close to her. Merida would deal with the cold of her hands anytime, and if the woman wanted to use her as a personal teddy bear, the princess would allow it at all times, no questions asked.

"Stay…" Elsa mumbled, her eyes slipping closed as she no longer tried to fight her exhaustion. "You're… warm…"

Merida was sure Elsa would never have done such a thing if her mind hadn't been clouded by fever, and assumed a moment like this one may never come again. Would Elsa regret this when her health took a turn for the better, if she remembered at all? Perhaps she would. But who was Merida to push her away now? She didn't have the strength nor the heart to do so. All she wanted was to stay like this, treasuring the moment while it lasted.

Lunch could wait, Merida thought to herself, making herself comfortable in Elsa's sleepy embrace. There were more important matters to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the long wait! Was this chapter satisfying? It's some nice fluff, and I hope you liked it! And share your thoughts on this chapter and story with me if you feel like it!


	8. Chapter 8: On Merida and romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kristoff and Anna come up with a surprising theory, leading Kristoff to go out and investigate.

Kristoff hadn't expected a library, of all places, to be _such_ a fantastic place for cuddling.

He could probably have figured it would be more comfortable than, well… Cuddling in a sled, or in the piles of hay in Sven's stable, where the smell wasn't to write home about in any way. In the end, humans _did_ smell better than reindeer. But Sven would enjoy the privacy, now that Kristoff had chosen to keep Anna close to him in the library and the reindeer could munch on his carrots in peace.

It was a chilly autumn day; the kind where the sun shines, hanging low in the sky, but there's a certain crispness in the air and your breath forms clouds in the cold anyway. Kristoff would tell anyone who dared suggest otherwise that he didn't mind low temperatures; he'd seen many a winter's day as an ice harvester, after all, and his future sister-in-law could create ice cubes out of thin air to cool down his lemonade in summer, for god's sake.

But tolerance for cold aside, how _could_ he say no when Anna, after a pleasant trip through Arendelle's beautiful forests full of autumn foliage on which he'd gladly let her talk his ears off, wandered up to him after setting foot in the kitchen, hugged him and told him it was the perfect weather for snuggles? Kristoff, having smelled the kitchens were in use, had dropped by the head chef to ask him if he could prepare two mugs of hot chocolate, which earned him an excited kiss from his lover, and he'd asked if she was fine with going to the library with him.

He'd asked, not because he thought she'd withdraw her proposition to snuggle up to him, but because he was aware of the horrors Anna had seen there. She'd told him what happened in the library one night when they'd been looking at the stars together, spilled the disgusting details of a day filled with cold and betrayal. Weak as she had been (he knew, because he'd carried her fragile, shivering, _freezing_ body to the gates of an unwelcoming castle), she could tell him about the day's events in such a vivid way it almost scared him.

She'd recounted how Hans' scent enveloped her, how his lips had been _so_ close to brushing over hers, how she could sometimes still feel the ghost of his treacherous fingers tracing her cheeks and chin. But most of all, Anna recalled harsh words in a tone so amused it added to their cruelty, and green eyes alight with joy at the prospect of leaving her to freeze to a certain death.

If she felt uncomfortable being in that room in a somewhat intimate way with a man she was romantically involved with, Kristoff would accept it and cater to her needs at all costs. Cuddling and enjoying hot chocolate could also be done in… in the _portrait room_ , or even the council chamber if it proved to be empty, though Queen Elsa would want a word with them after that, knowing her. All Anna had to do was say the words, and they'd find someplace else for them to relax.

But Anna, much to his relief, had given him that radiant, bright smile he'd grown to love, and she scrunched up her nose and told him, albeit with slight reluctance, that the past was in the past and she didn't like dwelling on it. Which sounded like a statement her sister had cooked up that she'd stolen, but who was he to ruin the mood by laughing and pointing that out? He had different priorities, like sitting down with her far from the watchful eyes of gossipy castle staff members and savouring his drink and the moment to the fullest.

The warmth coming from the fire crackling with glee in the fireplace was delightful, and Kristoff was torn between looking at the picturesque scene of an Arendellian autumn day he could see through the window and gazing at the princess he could call his with affection-filled eyes. God, she was perfect, wasn't she? He loved everything about her, from her scent to her kisses to her sweetness and tendency to look at all that happened in her life from the bright side.

"Kris… what are you thinking about?" 

Her rather groggy voice shook him out of his thoughts. He watched her eyes flutter open to look up at him, awaiting an answer. Clearing his throat, he made no effort to hide his cheeks heating up and said: "Oh, uh… you want to know?"

She nodded, frowning, and he could've slapped himself in the face for his lovesick stupidity. _Of course she wants to know, you idiot, why else would she ask?_ He pinched his nose in frustration, which caused Anna to giggle.

"I guess I was thinking about how I want to be here with you forever." He decided that sounded too sugar-sweet and cheesy, and followed up with an "and I considered going back to the kitchens for more hot chocolate" to make himself sound like less of a sentimental wreck.

Anna shifted in his arms and Kristoff had to move on the sofa they lay on to give her more space. "That's sweet," she said, those bright eyes still fixed on him as she flicked his nose. "And here I thought I'd have to bribe you with a bunch of carrots you could share with Sven in order to get you to _ever_ cuddle with me anywhere other than outside."

Hugging her closer to him, Kristoff chuckled at that. "I know you don't mind being outside with me, but I can see myself getting… kind of used to this comfort, too. Besides, Merida said I should give this a try."

The snort Anna gave him as a response let him know she had some trouble stomaching that statement. " _Merida_?" She asked in confusion, her hands moving up to play with his hair. "I don't see… Huh? Why would she tell you that?"

Ah. He plucked at his lips, realizing he should've given Anna some more context to work with. He didn't want her to feel left out in any way, because that wasn't his intention at all. Admitting the truth was awkward, though, and he already dreaded how ridiculous he would sound, even though he knew he wouldn't see a trace of any kind of judgment in her eyes.

"I… Okay, this feels stupid, but I may or may not ask Merida for romantic advice at times." The heat in his cheeks flared up again, but he didn't think he could blame it on the fire they sat close to. Much to his relief, Anna didn't comment on it anyway.

"I get the romantic advice part," she mumbled, confusion still evident in her voice, "I really do. See, I also ask Gerda, and, and Elsa some questions at times. But… Merida, of all people? It's a strange choice."

With the way she phrased it, he had to admit she had a good point. But, he thought, relaxing once more, it _did_ make sense. Who else could he go to? Not Anna, that was for sure; discussing his romantic escapades with her would defeat the purpose of the whole thing. His family, though 'love experts', as they liked to call themselves, got a little too enthusiastic, so going to them was out of the question too. Sven was lousy at romance, which didn't make him an option either. He hadn't befriended any member of the castle staff enough to consider confiding in them, and the idea of asking Queen Elsa about his and her sister's love life terrified him a little, even though he knew the woman was more likely to offer him a cup of tea with a smile and chat with him than she was to freeze his feet to the floor.

Which left only one other person: Princess Merida of Dunbroch, whose bold attitude and fearlessness he'd liked from the start, even back in the day a little over a year ago, when he couldn't understand a single word she ever said. He spoke to her often, not because they sought each other out, but because they happened to run into each other a lot: In the stables, the castle kitchens, but most of all outside. 

The Scottish princess enjoyed being outdoors as much as he did, and it wasn't uncommon for her to tag along on his treks or the other way around. They still didn't always understand each other, but the language barrier wasn't too much of an inconvenience these days, and against all of Kristoff's expectations, he'd seen her become his friend somewhere along the way. And because she was a friend, because she didn't mind his slight reindeer stench or judged him for sharing carrots with Sven or treated him with contempt like so many others had done in his life, she was the person he preferred to open up to when it came to his love life.

"She's a friend," he said, ignoring that amused twinkle in Anna's blue eyes when she realized he'd basically admitted to not being a total misanthrope after all. "And good company for trips, too. And we need to talk about _something_ , right?"

"But _romance_?" Anna spoke the word in a way that was very unlike her: she spat it out, as if she wanted to get it out of her mouth as fast as possible. "I thought Merida always said she didn't care about that. Not that it's hard to see why, what with that suitor story and all, but how does she _not_ shut that topic down every time you bring it up?"

"Just because she doesn't _like_ romance, doesn't mean she can't talk about it, right?"

He felt Anna shake her head against his chest. "It's not wrong or anything. It's just that I'd always thought she'd find, uh… _apples_ or something more interesting than romance. Merida doesn't strike me as much of a romantic type, that's all."

At first glance, Princess Merida indeed didn't seem to care about romance a lot. Kristoff was convinced she could live a happy life without it, as long as she got access to good food, weapons, and the freedom to do whatever she felt like doing. That did not mean, however, that he thought Merida had rejected the _idea_ of ever falling in love altogether, even if she saw it as something she didn't need to one day die content. And sometimes, when she discussed his love life with him, he thought her voice grew a little less steady, or she'd look away from him or start rummaging through the equipment in his sled to busy herself. He didn't trust himself entirely, figured he may have been imagining things to give himself the idea he was perceptive, but all these subtle signs made him think the princess of Dunbroch hid _something_. Whatever that could be.

"I… I guess you're right. But you know, a few days back I mentioned that I was wondering if… If you'd ever see me as anything other than the smelly mountain man if so much of our quality time was spent _outside_ -"

" _Kristoff_. I love smelly mountain man you, and you don't have anything to feel insecure about, okay?"

He nodded, bit his lip. "Well, yeah, but I still… I wanted a second opinion, I suppose? And I was trying to come up with something to impress you, like, I don't know, a candle-lit dinner…"

" _Candle-lit_? Kris you spoil me-"

"And Merida just… interrupted me and told me that the library's a great place to cuddle, and that idea kind of stuck with me." He hugged Anna closer. "And she wasn't wrong, so..."

Anna didn't reply, and when Kristoff looked into her eyes, he found something unnerving in there. He knew that look. It was the look she got when she loitered near the kitchens or the throne room or the council chamber to catch snippets of the castle staff's discussions, or when she stopped to talk to one of the numerous maids or when she overheard an interesting conversation in town. When Anna caught but the faintest whiff of juicy gossip, she wanted to know everything down to the last detail.

"Anna? Should I just get us some more chocolate, or-"

"No." She clung even tighter to him, though he suspected it was to keep him from fleeing rather than out of sheer affection this time. "Kristoff, you don't think there's anything _weird_ about that statement?"

Kristoff blinked a few times. "Uh… I guess it makes me wonder _how_ Merida knows the library is a great place for cuddling?"

" _Exactly_." Anna kept her gaze trained on him, determined not to miss any other word that left his lips. "There's the possibility she voiced a thought and that was it, but the _other_ possibility, the intriguing one, is that she knows it from experience. But who could… Oh my god, do you think she's seeing a servant or a guard or whatever in secret? That would be _something_."

When Anna smelled gossip, she really _did_ chase after it like feral dog. Kristoff groaned and decided not to feed her curiosity even more. "Does it matter? Whether she cuddled with someone or not, she's free to do what she wants. It's none of our business unless she says so."

Anna's expression turned into a thoughtful one as she hummed in reply. "I _could_ talk to her about it and see if she'll take the bait and spill something-"

"Anna," he cut her off, trying to make himself sound stern enough to get his point across without seeming too intimidating, "I love you, and I understand you like discussing romance with other people, but not everyone sees things the way you see them. I'm sure Merida wouldn't appreciate it if you brought this up over breakfast or something. In fact, it could be a better idea to not bring it up at all."

This was something that saddened Anna, if only a little, and she made a disappointed noise. But when she looked at him, he didn't see anger or annoyance or hurt in her eyes. _Thank god_. The last thing he needed was for her to ignore him all throughout dinner later and make her sister think he'd done something to wrong her.

"I mean, it's going to be difficult, because you know I get… _excited_ over this stuff," she said with a sigh, "but I can see what you mean, and… you're right."

He smiled, pressed a kiss to her cheek, enjoying her warmth. "So you're going to leave her be, no matter what's up? You promise?"

Her eyes lit up when she answered: "In Elsa's words: I'll let it go. Even if I'm _dying_ to know more about this, I won't pester Merida about it."

His smile widening as he nodded, he said: "that's great to hear."

A mischievous smirk grew on Anna's face. "And now that we're done discussing someone else's romance," she murmured in his ear in a seductive tone, "we can get back to focusing on our own."

Well… Who was he to say no to that? She leaned in to kiss him, and when he kissed her back, he forgot all about Princess Merida and whatever she was up to behind the scenes. His own princess was more important, after all.

~~

He remembered rather well what he'd made Anna promise, could still hear the disappointment in her voice when she'd learnt her curiosity regarding who Princess Merida was seeing (if there was any truth to the theory, that was) wouldn't be satisfied anytime soon. He knew the right thing to do was to keep quiet about it. But then how was it that, as he fed Sven or found himself wandering along the fjord for some necessary alone-time, Merida and the feelings she may have had for _someone_ kept popping up in his mind?

Telling the voice in his head time and time again to shut it didn't help him one bit. A few days after his rather pleasant snuggling session with Anna, Kristoff had to face the consequences of the conversation they'd had: he found a curiosity similar to hers growing inside of him. Had he ever suspected there was something off about certain remarks his Scottish friend made when it came to romance? The answer to that question was yes. But never before had he felt the need to delve deeper into her psyche or press her to talk about her own seemingly non-existent love life.

Anna had awakened a monster within him, though, a monster growling at him to bring the matter up to Merida when he next saw her. He recognized the hypocrisy there: wouldn't it be downright nasty of him to dive into Merida's feelings for a look when he'd asked Anna not to? If she found out, she'd be miffed and ask why _she_ wasn't allowed to bring it up while he _was_.

But on the other hand, he thought to himself as he stared up at the ceiling of Sven's stable, wouldn't she be pleased if he ended up able to provide her with the answer she'd wanted to sniff around for? Then next time he'd cuddle up to her with hot chocolate, he'd have something to talk about with her, given that Merida didn't tell him to keep whatever she'd confess to him confidential. He'd see appreciation instead of angered scorn if that was the case. 

Besides, didn't he have more tact than Anna? Wasn't he more cautious in his conversations, wasn't he known for keeping secrets well and his mouth shut tight? If Merida had something to say, anything at all, he was sure she'd tell _him_ rather than Anna, no matter how much the redhead liked the girl.

He looked down at Sven when he felt the reindeer's nose pressed to his hand and realized he'd given his friend too little attention. Smiling, he went to get his beloved reindeer some carrots, took one for himself too, and ruffled the animal's fur. "What do you think, buddy? Should I ask Merida if she's seeing anyone, or not?"

Sven gave him a look Kristoff could interpret with ease, and it was a stern reminder that Sven was even more nosy than Anna could be. 

"Fine, fine," Kristoff relented, patting Sven's back, "You win. But you're not getting extra carrots just because you gave me the answer I was hoping to hear."

The look Sven gave him after that seemed to radiate disappointment. Kristoff laughed, promised to take him along to the fjord later, and steadied his resolve. He'd go to Merida, approach her as a friend, and see if there was anything she'd let slip about potential developments in her love life. He wasn't scared of her or anything, and as long as he didn't push her, there was a chance, no matter how small, that she was willing to talk to him about it.

He hadn't talked to Merida in a while, because she'd gone back to Scotland for a bit for the celebration of her brothers' birthday, and he thus hadn't talked to her in a while. It would be nice to see her again though, he concluded as he walked through the courtyard, trying to figure out where he'd find the redhead. Not the stables, because that's where he came from. Could she be in the kitchens? Or was she in a council meeting with Queen Elsa? Were there even any council meetings being held right now?

In the end, he shook his head, rejecting all of those options. Merida wouldn't be in the kitchens when lunch hadn't been too long ago, and he had vague memories of Anna telling him she'd ordered Elsa to keep her schedule free so they could have fun in the town together. That still left a lot of places in the small kingdom where the redhead could be, but he _did_ know a decent amount about her and could deduce a thing or two. It was sunny and warm outside for an autumn day and the wind wasn't too strong; Kristoff wasn't an expert, but he didn't doubt Merida would call it 'perfect archery weather'.

The archery range was where he would try his luck. He made his way over there, expecting to find royal guards practicing with their bows, but noticed it was awfully quiet. The royal guards, he figured, were busy protecting the castle and making sure neither Queen Elsa nor her sister could be harmed while out in town. But much to his relief, he did spot a familiar woman at the range. His hunch had been correct; Merida had gone outside after lunch to shoot and blow off steam that way, keeping herself busy while improving her skills with her bow at the same time, even if that skill was already at a very high level. Kristoff was sure she was the best archer residing in Arendelle right now, or even the best one in all of Norway.

Her eyes were trained on one of the numerous targets, and while Kristoff wasn't known for his silent approach, his footsteps heavy and kind of clumsy most of the time, he still got the idea she didn't know he was coming towards her. Princess Merida was a hunter, not prey, and lacked the latter's caution.

"Hey," Kristoff began in Norwegian, "don't startle at the sound of my voice, but-"

Merida did, in fact, startle, her focus interrupted against all her expectations. Her head whipped around and she faced him with fury in her eyes, though the fire in them died when she recognized him. " _Motherfucker_ ," she hissed in English, "where the hell did you come from?"

Language was a _thing_ for them. Kristoff knew Merida could understand most of his Norwegian, and at this point he could understand most of her English too (Gaelic, on the other hand, remained a total mystery to him, but Merida rarely spoke that in Arendelle either way). He often spoke Norwegian to her while she spoke English to him due to their awful pronunciations of each other's languages (Kristoff was an ice harvester, damn it, not a linguistic prodigy), and if that approach didn't work, they made do with frustrated gesturing and that was that.

If Kristoff was honest with himself, he had no idea what exactly the word 'motherfucker' was supposed to mean. "Mother… what? I don't have children, and I'm not a mother either…?"

Merida sighed, pulled a face. There was an annoyingly mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "It's a term that's often used to… greet someone you care about. Yeah."

A little voice in his head made him suspicious of that explanation, but he decided to take Merida's word for it, sketchy twinkling eyes or not. He hadn't come here to discuss languages, after all. But before he could explain what he was doing at the range, the Scottish princess cut him off: "You smell like reindeer and I guess you were at the stables eating carrots with Sven before you came here. So what are you doing here now? I doubt you're here to fetch my arrows for me, even though it would be appreciated if that was the case."

"I… wanted to catch up with you," Kristoff replied, unsure how to broach the subject he wanted to discuss with her. "I didn't see you much after you came back from Dunbroch, so… I ditched the stables? Humans _do_ smell better than people."

Merida looked at him as if he'd eaten glass in front of her. " _You_ went out of your way to talk to another person? Doesn't feel like you at all, Kristoff. You don't do small talk."

Fuck. He'd forgotten she could see through him as easily as Anna and Queen Elsa did. Were all the women in his life perceptive as hell, or was he more transparent than he thought himself to be? Oh, whatever. He gulped and crossed his arms. "Well, yeah, but… You tend to have fun stories whenever you've been to Dunbroch and I don't have anything better to do right now, so I thought I'd go and see if you had anything interesting to say."

She _did_ often come back with entertaining tales, so he was relieved to see she accepted that explanation for his unusual behaviour. He let himself be told to make himself comfortable while she continued to shoot, sending arrow after arrow straight into bull's eyes with only the occasional miss. Merida told him about how happy her family had been to see her, how her brothers had used ingenious schemes to steal large amounts of cake, and how she'd tried to see how far into the woods she could stray without getting lost, which had resulted in a somewhat dangerous situation, involving an angry kelpie, that her horse Angus had been able to help her get out of just in time ("he's getting old, Angus, but he's still a great horse!").

"It sounds like you had a good time back home," Kristoff said when she was finished, "and yet, you come back here every time."

That remark earned him a shrug. "I like it here," Merida replied, grabbing another arrow to shoot and turning her back on him. "Don't get me wrong, I love Scotland and my family… But Dunbroch won't run away from me, and I need to rule the place at some point. And I've got more than enough time left to spend there in my lifetime. I might as well enjoy the freedom Arendelle can offer me while I still can."

As an orphan boy who'd grown up in the woods, raised by trolls, Kristoff couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like to be told from the start of your life that you'd one day wear a crown shining golden in the sun, that you'd carry the burden of being responsible for a _kingdom_ and all those living in it. If he looked at Merida, with all her loudness and simple clothes, her inability to shy away from adventure and her appetite and her uncanny skill with weapons, it was difficult for him to picture her sitting on a throne one day. 

Oh, she'd make a good queen; she'd be a strong leader capable of caring about her subjects, always ready to listen to the common people like him, and she'd see to it that her kingdom prospered and thrived, too stubborn and driven to settle for anything less than a reputation of glory detailed in history books. Princess Merida could be all of that and more, someday. But if he studied her now, carefully, it was clear to him that she wasn't in a rush and hoped the day when she'd be queen would come later rather than sooner.

"And I like the people here," she said, which snapped him out of his daze and made him remember why he came to talk to her in the first place. "The townspeople, but mostly Anna, and you, and Queen… Elsa."

He _t_ _hought_ he saw her cheeks grow red, just a little, but decided it was due to the fact that they'd been outside for a long time and she'd been shooting, which had rendered her body sweaty and tired. There were logical explanations for that redness. And yet, he dared to hope he was getting somewhere, that his and Anna's theory had a grain of truth in it after all.

"Is there anyone in particular you're staying for?" It was a blunt question, he was aware of it, but it could be interpreted in more ways than one, and Merida _did_ appreciate honesty and directness. He held his breath while waiting for a reaction, his mouth a thin line, not knowing what to expect.

Merida had stilled when the question left his lips. He saw her lower her bow, slowly, the target she'd been aiming at forgotten. She turned to face him, but avoided his gaze. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just… curious."

He watched her grip on her bow tighten, feared he'd get an arrow through the stomach. God, what if she lashed out at him like that? He knew enough about her to understand she wouldn't hurt him for real, both because she liked him and because it would ruin Dunbroch's political relationship with Arendelle, but he still felt a slight panic rising in his chest.

"I… I suppose I never… thought about that." 

Kristoff heard no insincerity in her words; she spoke the truth, hadn't ever asked herself that question or had avoided doing so. She tensed up, though, as if she'd been slapped in the face, and Kristoff could only think of one reason as to why she'd react like that: she realized she _did_ stay for someone, whoever that may be, and didn't know how to handle that particular realization.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, just in case she made up her mind and shot him anyway, "I didn't mean to make this uncomfortable… I… misspoke! Yeah! Is there _anything_ you're staying for, is what I meant to ask, not anyone, _anything_ …"

His voice trailed off when Merida didn't say anything anymore. She just stared at the ground with a glassy look, a frown plastered on her face, thinking about something, anything. If he hadn't seen the rise and fall of her chest, indicating she was alive and breathing, he'd have thought she was a statue.

"I guess I'm staying for Queen Elsa."

At this point, the fact that she replied at all caught him off guard. The sudden confidence in her tone, though, that absolute, nonchalant _certainty_ with which she stated her point, surprised him even more. "Oh," was all he managed to force out, unable to figure out what to say to that. Almost a year and a half of hanging around a royal court, and still he didn't know how to talk to people. How did Anna make it look so easy?

Merida shrugged for the umpteenth time and her eyes found his, the glint in them almost challenging. _Try and prove me wrong, I dare you._ "why not? She's a great person, and I like spending time with her. Who doesn't, really?"

That last question, he noticed, was added as an afterthought more than anything; it was a mere means to justify her revelation, whatever that implied. He didn't dare point it out, though. Kristoff vowed to keep any suspicions he had to himself, and if he'd share them at all, it would be with Anna and no one else. Keeping quiet was the safest option now, he figured. Nodding, he said: "Yeah, I… understand."

She sighed, turned away from him. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go fetch my arrows. This conversation's pretty much over, anyway."

Under different circumstances, Kristoff would've rejoiced upon hearing he'd be released from the hellish prison that was 'conversation'. Yet, now he blinked, wondering if he'd gone too far, if he'd intruded, destroyed a friendship. "Uh… Are you, are you pissed at me?" He asked, tentative, awkwardly scratching the bridge of his nose.

Merida shook her head, placed her bow on the ground. "You'd be dead or running away now if I were," she said, trying to sound amused, but failing to. "We're good. I just... I need to think about a couple things, you see?"

He understood the hint and didn't press on. With a quick nod, he let her know he'd respect that, and he left her alone with a mumbled goodbye. He looked back for a split second, watched her trudge towards the targets to pull arrows out of them at a pace slower than normal. Was she okay? He considered going back to make sure, but decided against it in the end. 

Merida would figure it out. She always did. He'd seen her receive letters from home detailing negative events a couple of times, and she'd taken an afternoon to sulk and clear her head every single time, only to bounce right back to being the good old Merida he knew not long after. He was willing to bet she'd be all fine by the time they had dinner, and no one would even be able to sense anything was off with her.

But when she said she stayed for Queen Elsa, did she mean that in a platonic way? Or a romantic way? The answer should've been easy, but it _wasn't_. Kristoff knew far too little about romance to be able to figure out which option it was. He vowed to pay more attention to how Merida behaved around the queen whenever he could, and hoped that would be able to provide him with some clarity.

On his way back to the castle, he saw Anna and her sister enter the courtyard, laughing and smiling and carrying an abundance of chocolate with them. When Anna saw him, she gave him an excited wave and signalled for him to join them, probably wishing to share her afternoon with him.

He smiled back at her and pushed all thoughts of Merida's strange behaviour to the back of his mind. Whether she liked Queen Elsa in a platonic or a romantic way wasn't that important, and it was none of his business, in the end. All that mattered was that Merida was his friend either way, a good one, a trustworthy one he enjoyed having in his life, and if she chose to stay in Arendelle, he'd be happy about it, nothing else.

Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for Anna he couldn't quite explain, he approached her and her sister with a smile, his good mood showing. "Anna," he said, "did I ever tell you you're my favourite motherfucker?"

He watched her pull a face, saw Queen Elsa's composure slip as she stifled a laugh. "Your favourite _what_?"

Kristoff grimaced. _Well, not too trustworthy a friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write Kristoff often, so did I do it right? Any thoughts on this chapter or story you'd want to share? Feel free to let me know!


	9. Chapter 9: Silent Night (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas, and Elsa realizes a couple things with the help of her sister.

The world as Queen Elsa of Arendelle knew it, ran on logic and logic alone. This seemed a strange belief for a woman who possessed ice magic, or so she'd been told by many a minister, but she herself didn't see anything particularly peculiar in her chosen point of view. Yes, she _did_ have magic, its origins unknown; but the fact that she didn't have a logical explanation for the phenomenon didn't mean it didn't _exist_. All it meant was that she hadn't discovered it yet.

Everything in the world worked in logical ways, even her magic, she'd found out in years of trying to understand it. 'Love will thaw' was one such a logicality; ice was cold, love full of warmth, and of _course_ love would thaw, then, _of course_ it would, because the universe operated by a code, a rulebook, and she and her magic and everyone and everything else were part of that universe, following each and every rule unwittingly. 

There was a logical explanation for why everything was, well… the way it was. There was an explanation for why the forests of Arendelle had such a strange but pleasant scent to them after a downpour of rain, an explanation for why chocolate tasted sweet and like home, an explanation for why winter was cold and summer hot and spring and autumn everything inbetween. Some explanations she knew and understood, some she didn't, but that wasn't of importance, not much. What mattered to her was that she liked to think everything in the world, in one way or another, made _sense_. The idea of living in such a sensible world put her at ease, made her feel secure, helped her battle the anxiety she still felt, despite being released from the confines of her room a year and a half ago.

But in a world in which everything made sense, in which there was a logical explanation for everything, there was no chance Elsa would've liked Princess Merida of Dunbroch in any way.

It didn't make sense. It _didn't_. Princess Merida was, on a surface level, everything Elsa had been taught an heir to the throne _shouldn't_ be. She was loud and saw little use in dealing with foreign dignitaries with diplomacy and tact instead of being blatantly honest (The Prince of Liechtenstein had _not_ appreciated her comment about how she smelled of alcohol and disappointment). She ate whatever she could get her hands on, threw herself at whatever she wanted with an almost dangerous impulsivity and recklessness, used weapons like it was nothing and had a temper no one in Arendelle's castle ever dared to mess with. All in all, Elsa supposed, if someone had told her Merida was a soldier instead of a princess, she would've believed them right away.

If Elsa hadn't cut the vast majority of human contact out of her life at the tender age of eight and she'd been told back then that she'd one day feel _comfortable_ around someone like that, she'd have laughed and denied it with as much politeness as possible. She wasn't all that judgmental, but she knew what _she_ was: cautious, nervous, reserved, and cold, so cold if she tried to be. It wouldn't mix with the presence of a person like Merida, she'd have thought, a presence so on the foreground, _all eyes on me or there'll be arrows in them before you can blink._ Someone like Merida, someone who could get under her skin with such ease if she tried, wouldn't be her cup of tea, and that was all there was to it.

But life, much to Elsa's annoyance, wasn't as logical as she wanted it to be. Because she liked Merida, she _did_. She enjoyed the liveliness the woman could bring to any conversation, found herself amused by quiet comments about the occasional idiocy of her ministers. She liked how Merida was always ready to get her _anything_ , be it chocolate or a blanket to keep her warm or something as simple as company on a bad day. And her accent, indecipherable at first, was so pleasing to listen to now, and there was this twinkle in the blue of her eyes that seemed to shine brighter than the Northern lights Elsa had always admired.

Merida wasn't a picture-perfect princess by all means, and Elsa understood and accepted that she'd never be. But she still had many good qualities, so many even Anna, who had a certain fondness for handing out compliments, wouldn't have been able to name them all, and all of those together would make sure Princess Merida could one day be a queen stronger than Elsa and her magic could ever hope to be.

There were many reasons, too many, why Elsa liked Merida. But she shouldn't have liked her, shouldn't have liked her at all, not in that world she wanted to live in in which everything made sense. Because if she'd disliked Merida, or at least hadn't grown attached to her, this last Christmas would hurt less.

"You know what, sis? I don't understand you."

Elsa blinked and turned to her sister, the only other person still awake in their quiet castle who lay stretched out on the library sofa, hugging a pillow and trying to grab a praline from the plate on the low table in front of her, the key word being 'trying'; In spite of all her effort, Anna couldn't reach the sweets, her arms too short.

"What don't you understand…?" Elsa asked slowly, taking in the scene, hoping Anna wouldn't hurt herself in her endeavours, but finding the mental image of her sister rolling off the sofa by accident amusing in secret. The temptation to grab herself a piece of chocolate too rose in her, but she resisted by some miracle.

Whenever Anna huffed, her cheeks resembled a hamster's. It took all Elsa's self-control to not chuckle when she saw her sister's exasperated huff and eye-roll, followed by a: "Well, it's… It's Christmas Eve."

Elsa tapped her finger on the desk she'd been working at with a mischievous smile. "Is it? I hadn't realised. So that's what the banquet was for, and why the castle is filled to the brim with decorations, and why the citizens of our kingdom were out singing on the streets? And here I thought I'd gone mad!"

Another eye-roll. "Funny, but not what I meant. It's Christmas Eve! A time for celebrating! And somehow, you're still out here doing _paperwork_. Around _midnight_. What happened to 'no more work after dinner'?"

Sighing, Elsa glanced at the document which contained bits and pieces of information in her own cursive handwriting about suggestions offered by her council in the last meeting she'd attended. "I promised I'd take a look at this," she explained to her sister. "I could've done so earlier today, but I chose not to so I could celebrate Christmas with you like last year. That's why it still needs to be done now."

Anna snorted, giving up her hunt for the praline. "It could wait until tomorrow. The council members are all at home stuffing their faces with gingerbread houses and akevitt, and they won't mind if you postpone this a little longer..."

If Elsa was honest, Anna was right. No one would mind, and even if they did, they wouldn't say a word on it, because Elsa was the queen and no one liked going against her will, even though she'd never made a point of discouraging criticism and valued the opinions of those around her. Still, she opened her mouth to protest, giving her sister an incredulous look, but she found herself interrupted.

"…But it's fine. You do your work when you want to do it by all means, if that helps you sleep at night. But when you said you had to finish up with this paperwork, I thought you'd be, you know…" Anna whistled. "… _Working_. Not staring at a piece of paper like someone spilled coffee on it."

Had she been staring at the document? Elsa hadn't even realised that. She'd been lost in thought, trying to pick apart the inner workings of Princess Merida's soul to figure out what made it tick to no avail. She'd tried to envision the Scottish princess, tried to engrave every tiny detail of her into her brain so it wouldn't fade with time, until her sister had snapped her out of her trance by speaking.

Elsa scrunched up her nose, glaring at the paper. She could use a drink. It would calm the many emotions swirling inside of her. "I was thinking," she mumbled, ignoring the rime on her fingertips and hoping Anna would do the same.

"My theory," Anna said, gaze growing serious, eyes locking with Elsa's, "is that you're not actually planning to do the paperwork. You're using it as a distraction, is what's up."

Distraction? Ridiculous. How much liquor had Anna consumed tonight? Elsa felt like the answer to that question was 'too many'. "What do you mean, 'distraction'? Why would I need one?"

Anna laughed at that, though there was little humour in it. "You know why. I can see it in your eyes."

Or perhaps there wasn't any alcohol fogging up Anna's brain and she was experiencing one of her infamous bouts of sudden observance. And her sister _had_ been observant lately, that much Elsa knew. She'd asked questions that seemed to come out of nowhere, narrowed her eyes in playful suspicion a couple times too many, and seemed to sense it when she was given an answer that was just a little _off_.

Come to think of it… Many of Anna's questions had been about Merida.

 _Many_ of them.

Was that a coincidence? It couldn't be… right?

"I don't know what you want me to say," Elsa told her sister, "but I suppose… You think I don't know how to deal with the fact that Merida's going back to Dunbroch tomorrow."

She didn't even need to look at her sister to know she was nodding. "You were really quiet today, even more so compared to last year's Christmas… And…I, I know you don't like goodbyes, so…"

Because it would be a goodbye, wouldn't it be? This time when Merida set foot on the ship back to Scotland, it wouldn't be like normal, no. In fact, everything would be different; Merida would go home, to Dunbroch, to speak her own language and see her own family and eat foods familiar to her, and she wouldn't return to Arendelle this time around, not anymore. She would visit later, she'd promise, but what did 'later' mean, anyway? Would she come back within a few months, or a few years or a few _decades_? And if she returned at all, if she bothered to keep the small kingdom of Arendelle and its royal family in a special corner of her heart, for how long would she stay? No matter how long it was, it would feel like too short a time.

If only Merida had asked to have her stay extended once again… If she'd done so, everything would have been fine. All would remain as it was, and Elsa would be able to keep her close, something she wished for dearly, though she wasn't sure if she understood why. But Merida hadn't asked for yet another extension. She'd sat Elsa down by the end of autumn with a grave look in her eyes and a small, sad smile on her face, and she'd announced it had been a year and a half, and she planned to go back home before the year was over. And now 1843 was fast approaching, and Elsa knew their time was up.

Her eyes flickered from the fire crackling in the hearth to the snowflakes falling slowly outside, and back to her sister, who'd sat up and had gotten her hands on a praline. 

"You… You might be right. It still feels weird to think that she… won't be here with us anymore."

"I under- I see," Anna replied, and Elsa tried to figure out why she hadn't said _I understand_ , though she knew deep down that her sister couldn't fully understand whatever this was, because Elsa herself didn't understand it yet either.

She could _really_ use a drink.

Anna stuffed another piece of chocolate in her mouth, but didn't let it stop her from speaking. "Look… This is bothering you more than anyone else, and… And I can guess the reason why, though I can't say I know for sure, but if I'm right, my advice is you should just tell her, before she's gone and it'll be who-knows-how-long 'till you see her again."

Replying to that wasn't easy. Elsa didn't know what to say. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, a habit that she'd never managed to lose gained in a childhood of isolation. Ice crept around her feet. 

"What do you mean, 'tell her'? Tell her _what_?"

Anna's eyes shone when she laughed lightly, and she said with a snort: "Well, that you love her, of course."

…Wait, what?

Love?

 _Merida_?

"But she _knows_ , right?" Elsa forced out, staring at the plate of sweets in front of Anna to avoid her sister's apparent omniscient gaze. "She knows I love her, and you, and Kristoff and Olaf and even Sven, though he _did_ try to eat my cape once."

Anna shook her head, fidgeting with her hands. "I mean a different kind of love, and I think you know that, even if you'll deny it trying to fool either me, yourself, or both of us."

Different kind of love. She meant the kind of love she felt for Kristoff, Elsa realized, blinking fast as her cheeks grew hot. Did she feel that way towards Merida? She'd never asked herself that question, neither aloud nor in her head. She'd taken every single day Merida had been in Arendelle the way it came, had taken it for granted that the Scottish princess was there, and she knew the redhaired woman made her happy, she _knew_ that, but she'd never taken the time to consider just _how_ happy. There hadn't been any need to, because Merida was always there with her either way, eating or talking or strolling through town, and that was all that mattered.

And _maybe_ she went to sleep at night sometimes with those stupidly pretty eyes still seared into her brain, and she may have wondered how it would feel to run her hands through the mess of red curls and _perhaps_ she'd wanted to know once or twice what Merida's lips would taste like, but that didn't mean anything, that was _curiosity_. Those thoughts were the ones she classified as intrusive, like when you're standing on a balcony and the sudden, inexplicable urge to fling yourself down takes over, but you stay in place anyway, because you recognize how harmful the thought is and you shouldn't have had it in the first place, but it's _there_ and you can't do anything about it.

Or, and that was becoming a more plausible option with each passing second, it _was_ love, and she'd been too scared, too unfamiliar with the idea to realize it. But if this was something she herself had managed to miss, then how come Anna _hadn't_?

"Can you... Can you tell me what makes you think so?"

Anna's eyes lit up, her excitement at the chance to deliver her analysis showing. Elsa braced for a waterfall of words spilling out of her mouth.

"Kristoff and I were talking about the possibility of Merida having feelings for someone a few months ago," Anna explained, trying in vain to lock eyes with her sister, "and, you see, that got me thinking that night at dinner. We'd talked about Merida, and I got curious if _you_ might have feelings for someone that you hadn't talked to me about. So I took to observing over the past weeks and I put all the knowledge I got from devouring countless romance novels to good use, and I thought there's a _chance_ you liked Merida."

Elsa watched her sister, speechless, as the younger girl held up her hands in defense. "But it's just a thought! I could be wrong, I'm not an, um, detective, or anything. Who'd want to be a detective, anyway? Lying here on the sofa eating chocolate is much more fun-"

Sighing, Elsa cut her off: "Anna. Breathe. You said you… _observed_. What did you find?"

Her sister jumped at the opportunity to analyse once more. "It's all in the little things. During meals, council meetings, whatever, you seem to pay more attention to her than to anyone else. She's the only person besides me and Kristoff that you bother to socialize with, and you _stare_ and you always have something nice to say about her, and you also get pretty blushy and red when you're talking to her. I can tell, because your skin is, like, really pale under normal circumstances. Vampire-pale."

Elsa blinked. "So, to sum it up," she said, trying to recall all of those seemingly smitten instances Anna had spoken of, "you've established that I'm, A, in love with Merida, and B, a vampire."

"Yes! Wait, I mean… No. You're not a vampire. I think."

If Elsa claimed she didn't run her tongue over her teeth to check for fangs just in case, she would be lying. "Uh… Okay."

Anna shook her head wildly. "But hey, your potential vampirism _isn't_ what I wanted to talk about. It's… Like I said, you know? If I'm right, and you _do_ love her, you should tell her before she goes and it's too late."

" _If_ I love her like you said," Elsa retorted, knowing full well at this point it wasn't a matter of 'if' anymore, and it never had been either, "then why should I tell her? Chances are slim it'll actually lead to something. It would… _complicate_ matters, and it might destroy things dear to both of us."

She liked what she'd had with Merida now; from the bad times, back in a cold summer that felt so long ago when the princess had stood in front of her with a sword gleaming with danger, to all the countless good times that followed. It wasn't something she wanted to jeopardize or taint in any way, preferring to savour something sweet rather than something bitter.

But Anna was having none of that. " _Or_ you're going to regret it and spend your whole life wondering what could've been if you'd just taken the risk. That's a whole different kind of torture, but painful nonetheless."

Oh, _curse_ her. Elsa loved her sister dearly and more than anyone, but sometimes she thought her life would be so much easier without Anna's input. Far less pleasant for sure, but _easier_. But Anna was there, and Anna pulled her back in whenever she wanted to walk away, and deep down, Elsa knew she was better off like that.

"It's… It's a good point you're making."

If these choices she had, to confess or not to confess, were both evils she needed to choose from, then which one would be the lesser? Would it hurt more to carry bittersweet memories with her for the rest of her days, or would the sting of never knowing what could've been be in the back of her mind constantly? And what would Merida think? Did it even matter what Merida thought? She'd be leaving, anyway. Out of sight, out of mind, wasn't it? If the princess ended up despising her for this, Elsa could always try to let the mental scar fade and move on.

And it wasn't like this was unheard of, no. Elsa knew the laws of her own land, and knew her parents had managed to abolish her grandfather's law stating romantic and sexual relationships with someone of the same sex were a crime. Back in the days, Elsa hadn't understood why her parents were so adamant on abolishing it, though she also hadn't understood why that stupid law existed in the first place. But she'd been young then, a child who didn't care in the slightest who she was and wasn't allowed to have feelings for, trapped as she was in an icy, self-imposed loneliness.

"I _know_ it's a good point," Anna said, pulling a sly face. "And don't forget, it's Christmas. If there's any time of year ideal for showing people the love you hold for them, it's this one."

Another good point. Elsa stood up from her chair, left her paperwork for what it was, and grabbed herself a praline. "I should find Merida," she mumbled, trying to ignore how much her fingers trembled unwillingly.

Anna's expression was one of triumph, and Elsa could've sworn she heard the girl mouth an excited 'yes' under her breath. "You're going to confess to her? Good!"

Elsa cleared her throat. "I never said _that_. Just that I should find her. I want to talk to her for real before she leaves, and where that conversation will lead, I can't tell."

One last talk, whatever it would be about, wasn't a bad idea. It wasn't like she had something better to do, anyway, unless she began to consider staring at paperwork to be 'better'. "Where _is_ Merida, anyway?" She asked her sister, who still seemed to think herself the matchmaker of a lifetime. "I haven't seen her since she went outside after our Christmas dinner. Is she even back yet?"

It took Anna a few seconds to think that question through, but Elsa still saw an answer soon enough. "Kristoff ran into her when he got back from the stables. Before he went to sleep, he told me she said she was going to see the harbour master. To check if it's possible to sail out of the fjord with the weather tomorrow, I suppose."

Secretly, Elsa found herself hoping the weather would be bad the next day, downright awful, so Merida would have no choice but to stay. But on the other hand, the woman was stubborn and possessed a dogged determination, and if she had her mind set on going home, Hell would freeze over before she'd let anything stop her from doing so. She'd swim if she had to.

"I'll look for her there, then," Elsa mumbled, turning away from her sister and making for the door to leave the library behind her. "It's late, so go to sleep by all means if you want to. Don't stay up waiting for me."

As if this statement made her realize how tired she was, Anna yawned. "Not planning to," she replied, a grin on her face. "I'll pull all the juicy details out of you when morning comes."

Right. Juicy details. As if there would be any, Elsa thought as she left her sister behind with a quick goodbye. This wouldn't end up being anything special, anyway. It would be a chat between friends, nothing more. A final chat, because Merida would leave, and there was _nothing_ that could make her stay.

And with that thought in the back of her mind, Elsa stepped out into the snow, wandering Arendelle's quiet streets in the darkness of Christmas Eve, all to reach the princess she now realized she loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was initially going to combine this with Merida and Elsa's upcoming chat, but this is already pretty long and I really wanted to get this update out before university starts to let y'all know I'm still alive (I just got very behind schedule when it comes to writing. Whoops).   
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to the next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10: Silent night (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa searches for Merida, and finds her in an odd place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really been looking forward to writing this. We deserve something soft every once in a while, don't we?
> 
> Enjoy.

Christmas Eve in Arendelle must've been cold, but Queen Elsa wouldn't have known. She made her way through quiet streets covered in snow, which sparkled in the soft yellow glow of street lamps, guiding her on her search. She made for the harbour in the dark of night, a thousand stars watching her every move from above, her breath forming clouds as she exhaled, and she wondered what it would be like to _feel_ winter around her like everyone else did.

It wasn't that she didn't know the feel of winter; she carried winter along with her everywhere she went. _Her_ version of it, the magical one, powered by ice flowing through her veins and causing snowflakes to dance on her fingertips. She knew what that winter felt like. It felt like power, a constant, low thrum of buzzing magic in her ears, snowflake patterns beautifully engraved in her mind, the chilling cool of frost ever-present in her throat.

But winter, a natural one… It was almost embarassing to admit she didn't know how that was supposed to feel.

She tried not to think about it, though, even if it _was_ a more pleasant thought than the thought of Merida leaving (which said a lot about how awful she thought that was, really). Elsa picked up her pace, turning corners as colourful houses all decorated for the Christmas of a lifetime loomed over her, their festive cheer swallowed by the foggy gloom of a night fit for a goodbye.

It felt like she'd been walking for hours when she reached the harbour, though the rational side of her knew not even ten minutes had passed since she left her palace. The fragrances of smoldering bonfires and elaborate Christmas dinners faded, finding themselves replaced by the odour of cold, salty fjord water and scaly, slimy fish.

Elsa knew the harbour to be a busy place, bustling with life during the day; boisterous sailors and dockworkers from all sorts of kingdoms and countries would roam around, working and drinking and laughing, and merchants came from all over to sell their wares or buy new goods, and children dashed through the whole scene, playing and causing mischief, not a care in the world.

But the harbour was deserted now, empty, and it occured to Elsa that she'd never quite realised how _big_ the place was. It had seemed small, cramped, even, when packed with people of all shapes and sizes, colours and nationalities. But the main snow-covered road stretching out before her, leading her past a row of docks and ships, didn't appear to have an end now, going on and on forever. Without the people, who were all at home with their families and fast asleep now, without the vivid liveliness of the day colouring this night, and with the quiet darkness and the fog ruling alongside Elsa now, there was something eerie about being there all alone.

Looking past the large docked ships, Elsa studied the fjord as she continued on her way. It wasn't frozen over; it hadn't frozen over completely since she'd caused it to, a year and a half ago in one fateful summer. But the water, she knew without a doubt, was cold, so freezing a normal human being would die within ten minutes if they stayed in it for too long. Ice floated in it, emanating a cruel frigidity; it wouldn't keep any Arendellian ship confined to the docks, but their path to open sea would be treacherous.

Somewhere among all these ships lay the one that would take Merida away, Elsa thought, that stab through her heart entering her mind unannounced once again like a silent killer. Tomorrow, Merida would be on one of those ships, looking out over a vast sea as she waited for Scotland and her home to show up in the distance. And whichever ship it would be, it would leave Arendelle's harbour and return eventually, while Merida would be gone forever.

Well… maybe not _forever_. But to Elsa, that was what it felt like.

She didn't want to look at those ships anymore. It didn't serve to take her mind off the dreaded tomorrow at all. She turned her head away from them and the fjord, focusing on the buildings on her right side: Depots, customs offices, taverns. Most of them lacked illumination, seemed as empty as the rest of the harbour, everyone having gone home for Christmas. But Merida hadn't come home, if Arendelle's palace even felt like home to her. The Princess of Dunbroch was out here somewhere, and Elsa wouldn't leave this place without her.

A dim light in the distance caught her attention. Elsa found it as good a destination as any.

Trudging through the snow, still unbothered by the cold, she approached the source of the light, a building, curious as she was to see what she'd find there. By day, she knew her kingdom; by night it became shrouded in mystery. And this building, Elsa realized as she came to a halt in front of it, was shrouded in mystery to her even in daylight. It was a building made of wood, giving it the look of an overly large log cabin, and it lay tucked away in one of the darkest corners of the harbour. Ironic, since it was now the one place still bathing in a soft light.

It was a tavern. And not just any tavern. A _shady_ tavern. The kind of place a proper queen wouldn't want to be found dead in. 

Also the kind of place a proper queen would _absolutely_ be found dead in, judging from its usual clientele.

Elsa was willing to bet a lot of money that this was the kind of place Merida would thrive in.

She wasn't fond of taverns like this one, but she didn't think there was anywhere else Merida would have gone. Elsa took a deep breath and opened the door, which creaked heavily as it moved, and braced herself for whatever she'd see.

Much to her surprise, the scene inside wasn't even _too_ bad; it could look cozy if she used her imagination a little. It smelled like alcohol and fire, meats and fish and the presence of people, some more hygienic than others. It was warm, or at least, for the average person it would've been rather comfortable compared to outside where a wintry cold reigned these days. 

And it was quiet, more quiet than it would be on a regular saturday night. Because who would want to be in a questionable tavern on Christmas eve in the middle of the night, when they could be home instead? The few people Elsa saw in here, sitting alone or in pairs talking in hushed voices, were the people who had nowhere else to go.

The tavern's keeper didn't pay much attention to her, which Elsa could have considered disrespectful if she wasn't so grateful he was ignoring her; the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself. The man behind the bar, she figured, would only talk to her if she started a conversation herself first, which wouldn't happen anytime soon.

She scanned the room until her eyes landed on something messy and red, which let her know she'd found who she was looking for.

Princess Merida of Dunbroch hadn't seen her come in at all. She sat at a small wooden table in the corner of the tavern next to a crackling fire in the hearth, at which she was staring as if the flames held the answer to every question imaginable. A half-empty glass of beer stood in front of her, and she ran a finger over its rim absent-mindedly. Elsa wondered what she was thinking about.

Merida wouldn't mind her company, she thought. She hoped. She approached the princess at her lonely table, heels clicking on the tavern's wooden floor, and pulled up a chair opposite of her. "A penny," she said as Merida startled and looked up in surprise, "for your thoughts."

It was a miracle Merida hadn't knocked her glass over in shock. "Queen- Elsa," she muttered, letting go of her glass and looking away. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you." Elsa smiled at her friend, trying to convey that she wasn't there to judge or reprimand her for being here. "I guess I… Just wanted to talk to you for a bit before you leave tomorrow."

Merida took this in for a second, before returning Elsa's smile. "Well, you found me."

God, why did her eyes seem to _sparkle_? The orange glow of the hearth really brought out their beautiful blue colour. And that smile… That smile made it even better. Elsa blushed without wanting to, doubting her ability to speak, let alone her ability to tell the woman what she felt for her. It had seemed difficult before, when Anna had first brought it up, and Elsa's confidence had grown when she'd resolved to find Merida, but now she felt that confidence deflate right then and there.

"Anna said you went to see the harbour master," Elsa forced out, desperate to say _something_. "Did he have anything interesting to say?"

Merida took a sip of her beer. "The fjord's clear. There's not enough ice in it to have to cancel any ship's trips. The ship to Scotland sails off tomorrow, no trouble expected."

This news almost caused Elsa to grimace. A part of her had hoped, against better judgment, that sailing wouldn't be possible and Merida would have to stay in Arendelle. But she had no such luck. Of course, she could freeze the fjord herself, but Merida would know what she'd done, and Elsa didn't think she'd take kindly to it.

"That's great to hear." Feigning happiness wasn't _too_ hard. _Conceal, don't feel_ had been her mantra for years. It wasn't all that useful anymore these days, but Elsa wouldn't ever lose her aptitude for pretending to be happier than she was. "You must be looking forward to going home."

Merida shrugged, making a noncomittal noise. "I guess... It'll be nice. Seeing familiar faces, knowing my way wherever in the woods I go… And the taverns in Dunbroch are better too."

Enough things to look forward to. But why didn't Merida sound so enthusiastic? Elsa knew Merida wasn't like Anna, showing excitement at the slightest positive occurence in her life, but the princess' good mood was still contagious if she enjoyed herself. And if she _wasn't_ in such a good mood, which seemed to be the case now, it was clear to everyone talking to her from her tone and facial expressions that she wasn't to be messed with now, and her gloominess would weigh heavy on those around her.

Tonight, Merida sounded gloomy like that. Elsa didn't think it suited her, especially not with Christmas in town.

"You don't sound so convinced, Mer."

Merida shook her head with a melancholic smile. "The thing is that familiar faces grow boring soon enough, and there's no excitement in knowing where you are at all times with no chance at getting lost… And as for the taverns…" Merida's intense gaze met Elsa's for what the latter thought was the first time since she'd gotten here. "…The beer may be better, but the company won't be nearly as pleasant."

Had Merida's face been reddish the whole time they were, or was this a recent development? Was she… blushing? Or was she drunk? How many beers had she had? Her words weren't slurred and she didn't look dazed, on the contrary: Princess Merida seemed sharper than ever before.

As much as Elsa hated it, she found herself blushing too. "I… Right. Yeah." She shook her confusion away, trying to find words to say, all of them lost to her all of a sudden. "But it's still going back to a place I know you love. By all means, I thought you'd be… happier to leave and go home."

In secret, Elsa rejoiced. If Merida _wasn't_ content with leaving after all, there was a chance she could be persuaded to stay in Arendelle. But Elsa gave up on that delusion soon enough; Merida had her mind set on leaving, and she'd do so, miserable or not. And if she was leaving anyway, perhaps for good, the Queen of Arendelle would rather see her leave with that beautiful smile on her face.

Merida sighed, her hand moving to her glass, fingers grasping it, digging into it. "But it's not going home. Not really." Her fingers tapped a rhythm against the material, coating it with fingerprints that would fade like her presence in Arendelle. "I mean… Yes, Dunbroch is home. But I've spent a long time here too, in Arendelle. And it may sound strange, but… This place feels as much as home as Dunbroch does."

Somehow, Elsa found that strangely flattering. Arendelle had made a good impression on Merida. She hoped she herself, as its ruler, had done the same.

"So yeah, I'm going home, but I'm just trading one home for the other. And… Just because I won't be here in Arendelle anymore, it doesn't mean this kingdom will no longer be my home. If that makes sense?" Merida ran her free hand through her hair and brought her glass of beer to her mouth with the other, downing it without another thought. "If it doesn't, this right here should be my last glass."

Elsa thought about it, but had to conclude the only home she'd ever known was Arendelle. But she'd wanted to understand Princess Merida of Dunbroch for a long time now, and she had a decent idea of what made the woman tick. Even if she didn't understand the _feeling_ , she could understand the reasoning behind it; the same way she understood what natural winter was and how it made those around her feel, despite never having felt it herself before.

Without thinking, on instinct, she placed her hand on Merida's when the princess set her glass down. She'd never have _dreamed_ of doing something like that as little as two years ago, too afraid of freezing those she touched, scared they'd shatter or melt away. But Merida could make her feel so warm she thought it could take away her ability to freeze, and her apparent confidence tended to rub off on the Queen of Arendelle.

Merida didn't flinch or tell her to remove her hand. Instead, her cheeks seemed to grow red again (or was that a trick of the flames?), and she gave Elsa an inquisitive look.

"You're making sense," Elsa said softly, "but this _should_ be your last glass. Because it's late, Mer, and we should go back to the palace. This night doesn't last forever."

With a small smile for Elsa only, lightly coated with mischief, Merida's eyes swept over the room. "Oh, but I'd stay here with you for a hundred nights if it was an option," she said, and Elsa got the idea she meant every word she said. "It's not much, but it's quiet, and there's a fire to keep us warm. That's nice, if it's just us."

It _was_ a nice thought, but now Elsa wanted to leave. They sat close to the fire, close to its light. In the darkness of the night outside, a dark that couldn't be chased away by street lamps, Merida wouldn't be able to see how red her face was.

She stood up. "If you come back someday, Princess, I'll remember that suggestion and take you up on it. But for now, it's about time to leave." _Even though I'd spend every minute before you leave with you if I could, Mer, but that just makes goodbyes harder._

Merida followed her and rose from her seat too. "I look forward to that day already."

And there it was again, Elsa realized, that implication that Princess Merida didn't want to leave at all. Elsa found it all quite strange: when the princess had first announced she'd go back home, she'd sounded so sure of herself and her decision to leave. Tonight, that earlier certainty seemed to have abandoned her.

After paying the tavern keeper for the drinks she'd consumed (two, apparently), Merida made for the tavern's exit, with Elsa following with an eagerness, staring at the princess, wondering how long it would be until they met again. They left the tavern behind them, stepping out into a crisp december night, and Elsa once again caught sight of the soul-crushing ships that would take Merida away.

"It's cold," the princess muttered, pulling her black cloak tighter around her. Elsa couldn't agree, but she nodded anyway, wishing she'd had fire magic instead of what she'd been gifted with; at least then she could've kept Merida warm.

The night had grown even quieter, even the last lost souls having found a desire to sleep, and it had begun to snow, natural flakes falling out of the sky. Elsa knew, because she was fairly certain she hadn't made it snow on accident in months. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Merida looking up at the flakes through her slight shivering, admiring them, smiling. Elsa would have done anything to keep that smile all for herself.

They walked in silence for what felt like hours, making their way home through a winter wonderland, and Elsa couldn't resist asking: "Merida… Why are you going back to Dunbroch now?"

She thought Merida had come up with her plan to leave because she _wanted_ to. Tonight, Elsa wasn't sure anymore.

Merida shrugged without looking her in the eye. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you don't seem happy to go. You're not as enthusiastic about returning to Dunbroch as I thought you would be. And that made me wonder what it was that made you decide to leave Arendelle in the first place." Elsa took a deep breath. "If someone made you feel unwelcome, I could…"

She fell silent when Merida shook her head and stopped walking.

"I appreciate your concern, but that's not the reason."

Elsa blinked, confused. "Then what is?"

With a sigh, Merida continued walking again, shoes crunching in the snow. "Uh… I, I talked to Kristoff a few months back. We were talking about Dunbroch, and Arendelle, and out of curiosity, he asked me if there was anything in particular that kept me here."

This piqued Elsa's interest. She picked up her pace to keep up with Merida, who seemed to be walking faster now, intentional or not. "And was there anything, if I may ask?"

Merida smiled at the snow beneath her feet. "There was." But her smile faded soon enough. "I realized… What was the most important reason I stayed. But then it got me thinking, and it occurred to me there's little chance that reason isn't a dead end going nowhere. So I can't stay here even longer, waiting for something that might never be. It seems better to move on and be of some use in Dunbroch than to stay here and be your kingdom's longtime guest forever."

It took Elsa a while to make sense of that. It was vague, cryptic… A touch melodramatic. Which was _her_ thing, not Merida's. Was this how confused others felt when talking to her? Elsa promptly made up her mind to apologize to everyone she'd ever conversed with. But what she _had_ gathered from Merida's speech was that _something_ had made her want to leave, and the Queen of Arendelle wouldn't rest until she knew what that was.

If she could figure out what made Merida stay, she could, perhaps, use the information to keep the princess here. The thought made her heart leap.

"If I were to ask," she began, hesitant, "out of mere curiosity… Would you tell me why you stayed?"

For the second time that night, Merida halted, right in the middle of the dimly-lit street, snow falling all around her and melting in her hair. The slight smile she gave Elsa was filled with mystery, but there was a shyness in it too. "It depends."

"On what?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

Was she serious? Elsa had kept her magic a secret from the whole world for thirteen years, and she'd done so 'till the end of her life if Anna hadn't provoked her on her coronation day. Whatever Merida could tell her, Elsa would take it to her grave if that was requested of her.

"Of course I can."

"Well, then." Merida wrung her hands together, trying to keep them warm in the cold. "I stayed for you."

It took all of Elsa's careful self-control not to let her jaw drop. For a second, she stopped breathing. Merida had stayed for _her_? Why would she? What did that mean?

And if she'd stayed for her… Did that mean she now left for her, too?

"I… You… You stayed for _me_? Why?" No matter what Elsa said, she couldn't keep the shock and surprise out of her voice. Her heart beat so fast she feared it would burst from her ribcage. Was this night even _real_?

Again, Merida shrugged. "I guess out of everything and everyone in this kingdom, you were the person I loved the most."

Elsa grew more baffled with each passing second. She was sure the expression on her face wasn't the most intelligent one. In fact, it was a miracle she hadn't bitten her tongue off in confusion on accident yet. "You… _love_ me?"

She could've sworn Merida's smile came with a wink, but there was a chance she was imagining things. If this was all a dream, it wouldn't matter anyway. "Yes," the princess said, casual in a way Elsa could never be. "And you're free to think whatever you want of that confession, as long as you won't tell. There are things not everyone has to know."

That was a statement Elsa couldn't disagree with, but she didn't voice it, still stunned and taken aback by what she'd heard. Merida was here with her, in the night, in the snow. Merida loved her. Merida was _leaving._

"We should get back to the castle now," the princess said, taking a few steps forward in the direction of the palace. Elsa remained rooted in place, unable to move. She'd crashed and burned and didn't know how to fix herself again. Why hadn't her parents ever taught her how to deal with situations like these? Why hadn't anyone ever written a guidebook on it?

When Merida noticed she wasn't following, the princess turned around to face her with a concerned frown. "You okay? Coming? I know cold doesn't bother you, but I'd hate to leave you out in the snow-"

"Merida," Elsa cut her off, slowly approaching her through the snow. "In all seriousness… If you stayed for me before… Why can't you stay for me any longer?"

Merida fidgeted with her fingers, still trying to keep them warm. "Would you want me to?"

 _I'd do anything if it meant you stayed._ "Yes." She was close now, so close she thought she could hear Merida's heartbeat speed up in the silence, and when their eyes met, there was a hesitant intensity in the blue of them. "You know… I was always taught that if you love someone, you should let them go."

The princess didn't move, even though her face almost touched Elsa's. She smelled vaguely of beer, the queen thought, which was something she could do without; but her warmth was still there, chasing away a cold even Elsa could feel.

"But I let Anna go, a long time back, and it didn't work out. It _didn't._ And last summer, when I got out of my isolation, I learnt something else. I learnt that you don't let certain people go, because they're worth holding on to. Because they're special and they make you feel like everything's going to be okay in the end."

Merida smiled, and Elsa couldn't tell if it was soft, mischievous, or a little bit of both. Perhaps the best word for it was _genuine._ "Is that how I make you feel?"

Was it? Were there any words at all to explain what she made Elsa feel? No matter how much the queen searched through her brain, she couldn't capture this feeling in words: Not in English, not in Norwegian, hell, not even in French or in German, though she had to admit she hadn't practiced those last two languages in a long, long time. But how could she be expected to remember _languages_ of all things, when Princess Merida of Dunbroch was right there in front of her, tongue-tying her, taking her breath away along with her words?

 _IIf you can't rely on your eloquence_ , her father, all regal, had told her while teaching her how to be a proper ruler, _you should rely on your intuition instead. In your heart, you'll know what the best thing to do is. The next right step for you to take._

While Elsa would argue her heart knew far less than her brain did, her father had had a point. And while he'd been talking about diplomatic, formal situations, not about romances with foreign princesses in the snow, Elsa found a strange kind of solace and a rising confidence in those words.

She'd never kissed someone before, she thought as she pressed her lips softly to Merida's. But while the prospect of jumping into anything unknowing, unprepared, terrified her, she didn't mind, because this was Merida, and Merida wouldn't judge or care if she did something wrong, and there was no need to panic, no need to panic at all. There was only softness now, and that overwhelming warmth Merida seemed to possess; the vague taste of beer, the elation of feeling loved; a peaceful kind of quiet, and the feel of Merida's hair and the snowflakes caught in it.

To Elsa, this felt right, and she hoped Merida returned the sentiment. She didn't know what the princess felt, _couldn't_ know; like the feeling of a natural winter, Merida's exact emotions were out of reach for her. But she seemed to enjoy this, this moment they had to share with no one but each other, and Elsa found herself hoping they could be this close more often.

When Merida pulled away, slightly, her face remained close to Elsa's, studying her features. And while Elsa felt as speechless as before, she believed the one thought she still had showed clear in her expression. _Please, don't leave._

And Merida got closer to her again, brought her mouth to Elsa's ear to whisper in it, hushed words meant for her alone, and Elsa could _feel_ a smile bleeding through them.

"So, Your Majesty… I think I'd like to extend my stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet enough to y'all's tastes? I sure hope so. Feel free to share any thought you have in the comments!
> 
> Now we're steering into Frozen II territory, which is definitely going to be the most difficult part of this story for me to write... But I'm still going to do my best for it! Hope you people will stick around to see!


	11. Chapter 11: 1843

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merida receives a letter from her parents. Elsa faces some fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd move on to F2, but my friend Risingbluephoenix gave me another idea I wanted to work with first. Kudos to him! This also has more of a holiday vibe, so that's nice.
> 
> 8K words, people! No one can claim I haven't produced enough content. Enjoy!

1843, if Elsa's gut feeling was right, would be a year of change.

In a way, every new year was. While many things always remained the same, like the love she felt for her family and what foods she enjoyed eating, it was inevitable she'd be faced with small changes. A new year meant she'd lose old employees and gain fresh ones, meant some would die and some would be born, and it meant a new chapter in the story of her life, blank, ready to be scribbled full of whatever she chose to fill it with.

Elsa never quite knew what to _do_ when a new year came around. People made plans for that, didn't they? She knew Anna did. Her sister always came up with interesting resolutions: _This year, I'll stop gossiping with the maids. This year, I'll wake early every morning. This year, I won't ever complain about what the cooks make for dinner._ In the end, Anna _tried_ , but what she resolved was ephemeral, and she cheerfully fell back into her old habits by the end of January.

But while Anna loved new year's resolutions and had been coming up with new ones since she was a child, Elsa had never bothered with them. New year's resolutions, the way she saw them, were a path to creating a better future for yourself. When cooped up in her room, cold and lonely, Elsa had _had_ no future. When her mother had inquired about her resolutions when she was a teenager, she'd voiced this view, and though it had earned her more concerned looks than was usual, it had been the truth. Queen Iduna had known, and she hadn't asked anymore.

Everything was different now, though. Everything had been different ever since her coronation. That coronation had been the axis of it all, setting events into motion that had changed Elsa's life forever. She'd left her room, her castle, her past behind her, burying it beneath layers of snow, and she'd thawed it after, gaining control of a part of herself she'd never dared to explore. She'd been given a chance to mend her relationship with her sister, to begin again, and now they saw and spoke to each other often, during breakfast, in the castle's halls or out in town. And she'd met Princess Merida of Dunbroch.

Merida was many things; all good things, according to Elsa. In 1843, she managed to be both continuity and change at the same time. Continuity because she'd stayed in Arendelle, stayed with _Elsa_ like she'd been doing for so long, abandoning her plan to leave after a blissful kiss on Christmas Eve. The joy Elsa had felt when the princess had whispered so in her ear would be unequaled for a good amount of time, and now, on the first day of the new year, Merida could still be spotted in Arendelle's castle instead of being far away in Scotland. An excellent turn of events for sure.

But that same kiss that brought her the continuity of Merida's stay also brought her change. Elsa wasn't too fond of change. Most changes scared her. Some fears were irrational, like how she feared her favourite chocolate manufacturer would change its recipe and she'd end up disliking the new version of the product. Other fears were more severe; she still woke from a restless sleep deep in the night, and she'd open her bedroom door, just to make sure it wasn't locked and she wasn't trapped once more.

The change in Merida, much to her relief, was one of the good sort. They'd been friends before, but with the coming of the new year, they'd become more than that. Elsa had craved the princess's affection for a long time, though she'd suppressed that desire and failed to realize it. But now, knowing Merida loved her as well, she could get as much affection as she wanted.

It wasn't something she'd announce to everyone, though Anna, when she'd found Merida seated at the table for breakfast while she should've been on her ship home, knew enough. Her sister was decent enough to not outright ask about anything, sticking to mere subtle _insinuations_. The most conspicuous thing she'd done was share a conspiratorial glance with Kristoff. Elsa was grateful for that; anything was better than having to answer a thousand questions, and Anna being respectful and considerate enough to allow her to explore all this newness at her own pace was something she appreciated.

Of course, eventual questions would be inevitable. Not necessarily from her sister or her sister's lover, but from staff members or Arendellian citizens. Because wasn't Princess Merida set to leave? The harbour master, among others, would without a doubt have spoken of Merida's sudden cancellation of her trip home to whoever was interested enough in royal gossip, which was a great number of people. And what reason did Merida even have for staying in the first place? Elsa felt without a doubt that the princess would be asked that question whenever she ventured outside from now on.

What Merida would answer, though, was up to her. But Elsa herself didn't feel a need to answer any questions that hadn't yet been asked. All she wanted to do currently was enjoy this change and Merida's presence in her life; the rest of it all was of lesser significance. What _did_ matter, was that the promise of a good, new chapter in her life story involving Princess Merida of Dunbroch had given her the courage to try her hand at a new year's resolution again.

When she'd first been freed from her isolation, she'd gotten control of her life back, and with it came the idea that she _did_ have a future. After she'd started seeing the brighter side of life again, though, new year's resolutions and the like had been the furthest thing from her mind. But if 1843 was indeed a year of change, it could be nice to set a goal for the future in the spirit of not remaining stuck in the past. 

This year, Elsa resolved to face her fears and, hopefully, get over past trauma.

She knew she'd already gotten far; being in control of her magic had eased the fear she'd had of hurting people, and she'd connected with Anna, even opened up to Merida, who'd started out to her as a stranger from a kingdom she'd never known much about. But the road to complete recovery was a long one, an endless one if she got unlucky, and there was a lot left to unpack. She'd take it one day and one step at a time, though, and she was confident she'd at least have made some meaningful progress when 1844 would come around later.

The best course of action, she'd figured, was to start small. When she'd gotten to her paperwork this morning, it was tempting to go to the library, sit down and do the work there. Elsa liked the library: it was a quiet place, peaceful, cozy and comfortable, and the sight of rows and rows of bookshelves never failed to put her at ease.

But the library was, above all, an escape. While she _had_ taken a liking to the place, it didn't make sense for her to be working there all the time when her own room contained a perfectly fine desk fit for a queen. That desk was a pretty one, made of oak, shiny and spacious, and it was a shame it sat collecting dust in the corner of her bedroom for the sole reason that she couldn't stand to be in that room for anything other than sleep.

So Elsa, in her effort to start working through her trauma, had decided to try and use that desk in her room more often. Today, she sat down there with her paperwork, hoping to get acquaintanced with using it as a workspace. If the walls began to close in on her, she told herself, she could always go back to the library and see if she could try again tomorrow. For now, she wanted to see how far she'd come.

She'd been at work for half an hour now, surrounded by small piles of documents and the smell of ink, and she thought she was doing fine. The work kept her busy, steering her thoughts away from the bad memories lingering in her room, helping her through this. It gave her a triumphant feeling, and she smiled to herself as she grabbed the umpteenth sheet of paper from one of her piles. It was best not to overdo it on the work, but sitting here wasn't as scary as her mind had made it out to be, and she could almost see herself getting used to it.

Knocking on her bedroom door shook her out of her silent euphoria. It wasn't Anna's signature knock; she'd recognize that sound anywhere. This knock was somewhat more aggressive, and there was no pattern to be found in it. Elsa turned to face the door, shifting in her chair, and called out: "It's open!"

The door opened and Merida walked in, closing it behind her. Elsa could see she'd been outside; her cheeks were rosy and as always in winter, snowflakes had gotten stuck in her hair. Her shoes were caked with the white powder as well, causing her to leave a small trail in her wake. Elsa found it a rather comedic sight, though she did hope the princess wouldn't come down with a cold.

"Good morning," Merida mumbled, rubbing her hands together for warmth. The winter outside may have been softer than the one Elsa had caused two summers ago, but it still bit. "A maid told me you were in here. Since when do you work in your room instead of in the library?"

Elsa figured Merida would ask her as much. "I'm trying something new," she confessed, not bothering to keep the hint of pride from sneaking into her voice. Her gaze travelled to the snow that had come in along with Merida. "If Gerda saw you leaving a snow trail, she'll personally escort you to a ship leaving for Scotland before this day ends."

Cursing under her breath, Merida sat down on Elsa's bed and made herself comfortable like it was nothing, snow be damned. "Shit, I'm sorry," she said as she took in the snow on the floor. "If it inconveniences her too much, I'll ask her if she wants me to clean up."

That was a kind suggestion. Elsa nodded in approval at Merida's words, turning in her chair to better face the princess. It was kind of nice, having Merida in her room with her; better than being in this space all alone, confined to nothingness. The princess fit right in as well, as if she'd never been anywhere else.

"It'll work out," Elsa assured her, leaving her paperwork for what it was to hear Merida out. "Where have you been? You never go out so early, and I don't think I ever saw you miss breakfast before. Is something wrong?"

Merida was quick to reply to that. "No," she said, "don't worry. Nothing's wrong, I guess. I visited the post office." She produced a letter, which she'd hidden in her cloak to protect it from the elements outside to no avail; the cloak had gotten wet with snow, and the same could be said about the letter. "Figured my mother's message would arrive today, and I was right."

The first thing Elsa did was try to pinpoint what Merida's tone sounded like, but she couldn't figure it out: the redhead kept her voice rather neutral, and there were no traces of exuberant happiness or misery to be found. "Oh. What did she say?"

Truth be told, Elsa wasn't sure what Merida had written to her parents in the first place. The princess hadn't told her, and she wasn't nearly disrespectful enough to read through her personal papers behind her back. All she knew about the contents of the letter Merida had written for Queen Elinor on Christmas day, was that the redhead had explained she wasn't coming home after all, instead choosing to stay in Arendelle for longer. If any reason had been given for that sudden change of mind at all, Elsa didn't know.

"Well," Merida said with a sigh, eyeing the letter with a weary look, "she's okay with me staying here, for one."

 _Thank God._ The last thing Elsa wanted was for the Queen of Dunbroch to come at her like a feral dog for keeping her daughter away from her. Though she and her ice magic could surely handle any attack a middle-aged woman could hit her with, she'd rather not take her chances; she remembered Queen Elinor as a kind albeit intimidating woman. "That's great, isn't it?"

Merida hummed, and it didn't sound quite convinced. "I guess that's a way to put it. As for the rest, it's basic stuff. That she and everyone else in Dunbroch had been looking forward to me coming home, and…" Merida took a deep breath. "…She's coming to Arendelle for a visit."

Wait, what?

While Elsa didn't mind the idea of having the Queen of Dunbroch and whoever she brought along over in her kingdom as guests, Merida's words didn't sit well with her. 

"You mean… She _wants_ to come visit, right?" 

Blinking in confusion, Elsa gave Merida an unwavering, serious look, awaiting an answer. The princess scratched the bridge of her nose and averted her gaze, gritting her teeth. What Elsa knew, Merida knew as well: inviting yourself into someone's kingdom, someone else's palace, someone else's _home_ , was a breach of etiquette, close to diplomatic suicide, rude and risky. In doing so, Queen Elinor had shown nerve.

It also meant something serious was going on.

"That's what she could've… _should've_ said," Merida commented, eyes skimming over the letter in her hands once more. "But she didn't. She said she's coming, and that's final. Strange thing is, she didn't even specify an estimated date of arrival. She could arrive here tomorrow, for all I know."

Strange, indeed. Elsa raised an eyebrow, unsure how to feel about this situation. She didn't _mind_ having Merida's family over, but she wasn't too fond of her option to decline being taken away. She wouldn't bother Merida with that, and she wouldn't confront Queen Elinor about it either, but still she wasn't happy with this new development.

Merida gave her an amused look. "I still have no idea how you manage to be both adorable and terrifying at the same time." She shook her head with a smile. "Not that that's a bad thing, though. I suppose it suits you well."

Upon hearing those words, Elsa laughed, trying not to pay attention to the heat rising in her cheeks. She rose from her chair, heels clicking on the floor as she approached Merida on her bed. The princess moved to the side, and Elsa sat down next to her, eyes on the letter in Merida's hand. "Can I see that?"

"There's nothing interesting to see," Merida said with a derisive snort as she gave Elsa the letter. "My mother misses me and it's eating at her. And I understand, really. I said I'd come home, but then I… _didn't_. Don't get me wrong, I don't regret my decision to stay here at all, but… She's got a right to be miffed. I can't blame her for that."

Merida spoke with a conviction that only made Elsa more curious to know what Queen Elinor had actually written. She turned to the letter and skimmed the sentences; years of doing paperwork had left her with the useful skill of being able to find the noteworthy information hidden within heaps of drivel. The letter was short, far shorter than the ones she'd seen the Queen of Dunbroch write before. The woman had written as if she was afraid to give away too much information. 

Though the letter's ink had ended up blotted by the cold wetness outside, Elsa could still read the queen's words without too much difficulty. The letter's contents were roughly as Merida had described: the text began with a greeting, followed by a reluctant approval of Merida's choice to stay in Arendelle. After that, Queen Elinor had emphasized that she, her husband and her sons had missed Merida a lot, and the letter ended with the woman's loving regards paired with a 'P.S.: Your father and I will come to visit Arendelle soon'.

"You said she was miffed." Elsa turned to Merida upon finishing reading the letter. "She doesn't sound that way to me, though. It's… A little distant, yes, but she never voiced any negativity, per se. All I'm seeing in here aimed at you is approval. The only strange thing is the post scriptum, I'd say."

Merida let out a laugh. Elsa didn't think it a joyful one. "That's what it looks like at first glance," she explained, running a hand through her hair, "but the problem with my mother is that everything she says… Or _writes._.. Has a double meaning. So you can read the letter in a literal way, like you did, or you can read between the lines. And if you read between the lines, you'll see that she's disappointed I can't seem to make up my mind about anything and that she's letting me do this, but begrudgingly. She'd rather I come home and that's the end of it."

If Elsa had had Queen Elinor in front of her, she liked to think she'd have given her a piece of her mind, intimidating as she may have found the woman. Merida was an adult; she didn't need anyone's approval to do what she wanted. She was free. Not that the princess didn't know this as well; Elsa was sure Merida would shout and fight for days if her mother _did_ impose her will on her. But if the Queen of Dunbroch was disappointed in her daughter, as Merida claimed, Elsa felt that wasn't justified, and the urge to protect her lover from her mother's possible wrath became stronger with each passing second.

She leaned closer to Merida and tucked a red curl behind her ear, enjoying its softness beneath her touch. "If she wants to be disappointed, let her be," she whispered, giving the princess the most sincere look she could muster. "You didn't do anything wrong. You chose to remain in Arendelle, and she has to respect that."

"I know," Merida replied softly. Her hands travelled to Elsa's waist as if on instinct. If it had been anyone else, Elsa would've flinched, but she trusted Merida too much to ever fear her touch. "Still, though… There's a reason she wants to come. She doesn't understand what's keeping me here. I bet she's looking to find out for herself why I changed my mind about going home."

In the tenderness of the situation, Merida's lips looked _incredibly_ tempting, and Elsa couldn't help but want to taste them and feel electrified for the rest of the day. "We can handle anything she asks of us. It's… Her visit's not the end of the world. It's not the end of _us_."

The light in Merida's blue eyes shone bright, and Elsa found the sheer affection in them overwhelming. How had she overlooked this for so long? Merida radiated love. Elsa didn't know what she'd done to deserve it, but it did make her feel warm inside.

She wasn't sure if Merida could read her mind or if she'd perhaps been staring at her mouth for too long, because the redhead brought their faces closer together and pressed her lips to Elsa's. "I love you," she breathed out, and Elsa would've replied the same if she hadn't gotten lost in the kiss.

~~~~

Upon hearing of the upcoming visit of Merida's family, Elsa made work of figuring out when they'd arrive. She did a few calculations in her head and concluded the Scots could show up in her kingdom at any given time. To prepare, she ordered Arendelle's harbour master to keep his eyes open and send word to her and Merida the moment a Scottish ship could be seen on the fjord. If they could get wind of the arrival of the royals and prepare a proper welcome in spite of Queen Elinor blatantly inviting herself, Arendelle would make a good impression, something Elsa considered to be _crucial_.

She didn't fear Arendelle wouldn't be to Queen Elinor's liking; after the Great Thaw, Elsa had spoken with the queen more than once, and generally found her to be a pleasant woman. And Queen Elinor, on her part, hadn't bothered to hide her positive attitude towards Elsa's kingdom. While she hadn't been much impressed by lutefisk, Merida's mother had confessed she found Arendelle a 'lovely place' and that she was sure she'd hear 'nothing but good things' about it.

Queen Elinor had been full of praise back then, but that was a year and a half ago. Somehow, Elsa feared her opinion had changed now. Her nightmares morphed into something new, straying from the usual I'll-freeze-everyone-I-love-and-they'll-shatter-before-my-eyes scenario to allow the Queen of Dunbroch a role as the terrifying star of a brand-new play. Elsa wasn't sure what she was afraid of, or if there was any reason for it at all. Was she afraid of Merida's mother? Or was it the thought of Queen Elinor _somehow_ persuading Merida to come back to Dunbroch with her that was more horrible than anything else?

In the end, the reason didn't matter. She couldn't tell the queen she was unwelcome and that she should go back to Scotland when she arrived, though the dark part of Elsa seeking the easy way out wished to do just that. No. She had to face this challenge and meet it head-on, fighting for her and Merida's right to be together if it would come to that. Steeling herself, she prepared for the worst, rehearsing whatever conversation she'd have with Queen Elinor in her head a thousand times.

But when the queen and her husband arrived, about a week after Merida had received their letter, Elsa didn't need to do much speaking at all. She _did_ go to the harbour with her sister to welcome Merida's parents into her kingdom, but the redhead, in a good mood that day, took it upon herself to engage her parents in conversation, thus focusing their attention on her instead of on Elsa and Anna. A meaningful glance of Merida's in Elsa's direction let her know she did it on purpose, and Elsa felt grateful for that.

That, however, didn't mean the young queen could escape the presence of Merida's parents altogether. Still eager to make a good impression, she subjected herself to introductions and small talk whenever it was expected of her, in spite of how intimidating she found the Bear King and his wife.

King Fergus, a man Elsa, as far as she was aware, had never met before, was the largest human being she'd ever seen in her life. She knew where his nickname came from; Merida had told her about the horrors of the bear that had taken his leg from him. The evil gaze, the demonic stench, the sharp teeth ready to tear apart all creatures unfortunate enough to approach him… Elsa shuddered at the mere thought of such a beast. But when she saw King Fergus, she had no trouble believing this was a man who wouldn't run from a foe as terrifying as Mor'du; his feud with that devil was sure to make the history books, and Elsa was sure they wouldn't do the true, heroic story of Dunbroch's royal family and the bravery of its members justice.

But despite his intimidating physique, Elsa liked the man well enough. He reminded her of Merida, in a way (which wasn't strange, because he was her _father_ , but still): King Fergus was full of unrestrained laughter, seemed to always wear a cheerful expression, and possessed boundless energy and a love for the outdoors. He was vocal about his praise for Arendelle, its cuisine (Merida remarked he must have had no functioning tastebuds), its delightful atmosphere and friendly inhabitants. And on the first night of his stay, he'd seen to it he was brought large quantities of beer, and when he'd drunk so much the scent of alcohol around him was smothering, he'd become convinced he hallucinated the presence of the snowman Olaf, which elicited gales of laughter from his amused audience.

The Queen of Dunbroch, on the other hand, seemed the polar opposite of her husband in every way imaginable. She, too, presented herself in a good-natured, friendly way like King Fergus did, but she showed more restraint in her laughter, remaining formal at all times. She was thrifty with her compliments, never moved about the palace without the stiff, royal grace she'd adopted, and proved to be a more quiet, soft-spoken person.

Though she differed so much from her husband and her daughter at first glance, Elsa found it strange Queen Elinor managed to remind her of Merida as well. While the princess had never bothered with maintaining the sophisticated elegance her mother prided herself on, she could also go strangely quiet when she was thinking, and glares and concerned glances looked the exact same on Merida's face as they did on Queen Elinor's. But unlike the redhaired princess Elsa loved, the queen had no wide grins or affectionate looks to give her, and she seemed to make a point of keeping Arendelle's royals at an arms-length, which Elsa found peculiar; she hadn't been on bad terms with the woman at all when she'd left for her home a year and a half ago, but now Elsa felt as if she'd done something wrong, even if the queen never said such a thing.

She _implied_ it, though, with little oddities in her behaviour. Elsa caught her looking around often, as if searching for something, scrutinizing, and she was caught up in her thoughts more often than not. The woman was… Suspicious. Of something. Or _someone_. But Elsa couldn't figure out whatever her problem could be, and she wouldn't ask either, out of fear of saying something wrong, crossing lines best left untouched. She didn't dare ask Merida about it either; the princess saw no abnormalities in her mother's attitude at all, and if she did, she didn't show it, perhaps hoping she'd give up on whatever she wanted to achieve if no one addressed the issue. In any case, Elsa saw no reason in bothering her with questions about her mother. If Merida had something to say about her, she'd do so on her own accord.

Still, Elsa couldn't get the queen's suspicious, subtle nosiness out of her mind, curious as to what it was she _wanted_. Life continued, as did Elsa's royal duties, visitors or not, and her paperwork provided her with a distraction, but even as she worked, the issue never left the back of her mind.

She sat in the library today, wishing for peace and quiet without subjecting herself to the solitude of her room. The bookshelves around her provided her with an anchor; something to remind her she wasn't alone, would _never_ be alone anymore, giving a sense of comforting vibrancy to the tranquil place. Seated at a table as she was, fountain pen hovering above the document she was about to sign, she thought about Queen Elinor again.

What had Merida said about her again after reading her letter? That she wanted to know what made Merida stay? Yes, that was it. But why wouldn't the queen simply ask if that was what she wished to know? Why all the oddness, why the suspicion? And on top of that, Elsa thought, there was another thing she found stranger than any of the aforementioned quirks.

She'd spoken to Merida on the first night her parents stayed over, by the fire, when everyone else had long gone to sleep. They did that a lot these days, cuddling by the hearth and enjoying each other's presence. That night, Elsa had asked the princess if she enjoyed her parents being in Arendelle; Merida had smiled a lot that day, and though her mother's letter had seemed to weigh down on her before, she _did_ love her family and had appeared to be happy they were there.

"I do," Merida had replied. "They can be a pain, but it's been a long time and it's good to see them again. Shame my brothers didn't come along, though. They're missing out on this place, really."

That comment had stuck with Elsa, confirming, to her, just how unusual Queen Elinor's behaviour had been. The woman made no secret of how much she cared about her children; Elsa was sure she could be more terrifying than the dreaded Mor'du himself if she saw her kids were in danger. What, then, possessed her to leave her three sons, who couldn't have been older than twelve, alone in Dunbroch, separated from her by a whole sea? By all means, it was _safer_ if the boys had come along to Arendelle. That decision… didn't make sense.

It didn't make sense _at all._

Though she hadn't mentioned it to Merida back then, not wanting to ruin the moment, Elsa still tried to find an explanation, to solve the puzzle that was Queen Elinor of Dunbroch. A part of her wanted to walk up to the queen, look her in the eyes and ask her what the _hell_ she thought she was doing. But then the day on which she'd have to kiss Merida goodbye would come after all, and Elsa wished to avoid that day at all costs.

With an audible sigh, Elsa closed her eyes for a second before laying her pen down and reaching for the cup of tea in front of her. She took a sip, enjoying the drink's warmth, and wondered if it hadn't been better if she'd joined her family outside. It would've been a better distraction than the paperwork she'd been adamant on finishing. She thought about Anna and Merida, excited and ecstatic to take the King and Queen of Dunbroch into the mountains, and of Kristoff, who'd plastered a smile on his face but was dying inside in secret, already fearing for the safety of his precious sled.

She shook her head with a slight smile. He'd need a new one for sure.

A single, soft knock grabbed her attention. She looked at the door with a frown, wondering whoever it could be. Perhaps a servant wishing to speak to her, or one of her ministers looking for a book. In any case, the person didn't need her permission to come in, and she knew the knock was one of formality. She remained silent, waiting, curious to see who she'd see.

"Do you work in the library often, Queen Elsa?"

Queen Elinor of Dunbroch stood in the doorway, ramrod straight, a steaming cup of tea in her hands. There was no contempt in her question, nothing but a neutral kind of interest in a fellow ruler's habits. Still, Elsa's eyes widened as if she'd been caught committing some heinous crime.

She forced a smile onto her face and replied: "Well, yes. I like it here. I feel most at home in the library." She thought she'd worn her fake smile long enough and discarded it. "Didn't you go out with your family and my sister, Queen Elinor? I gathered Merida was looking forward to showing you around."

When she mentioned Merida's name, the corner of Queen Elinor's mouth twitched in a manner Elsa couldn't describe without using the words 'dangerous' and 'foreboding'. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought there was murder in the woman's eyes. 

"I'm not suited for trudging through forests and mountains, dear. My husband and daughter never shut up about the outdoors, but my place is in council chambers and warm rooms."

"I see." Elsa didn't dare say more, afraid her voice would be riddled with tremors. Damn it, had she grown to be _afraid_ of this woman? _Why_ was she staring in such a passive-aggressive way? Couldn't she go drink her tea somewhere else, miles and miles away from Elsa? Arendelle's young queen had no appetite for the negativity surrounding the frightening Scottish lady.

But while Merida, or so it seemed, could read her thoughts and feelings as easily as if she were a book, Queen Elinor could not. At all. If she could, she'd never have asked what she did. "Do you mind if I sit here with you for a bit?"

Politeness forbade Elsa to speak what was actually on her mind. "Of course. I wouldn't say no to a guest."

Queen Elinor grimaced, approaching the table Elsa sat at and taking the chair opposite of her for herself. She set her tea down, folded her hands on the table and took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes as she looked at Elsa. "Merida speaks rather highly of you."

Feigning surprise with a smile, Elsa replied: "She does? That's good to hear."

"I believe you two get along?"

 _You could say so_. "You would be correct."

"And she likes this kingdom? Hasn't run into any trouble? With anything? Anyone?"

Elsa frowned. "As far as I know, she loves it here, and I don't know anything about any trouble. Why don't you ask _her_ instead? I'm sure Merida knows more about her own wellbeing than I do."

"Spare me your sass, dear."

Sass? _Sass_? Elsa may have found the woman intimidating, but this questioning was beginning to irritate her. This lady had invited herself into Elsa's kingdom and had shown her nothing but suspicious behaviour. What gave her the right to scrutinize now?

"I won't spare you any sass, Queen Elinor. What is this? An interrogation? If you have a problem with me for some reason, why don't you come out and say it instead of subjecting me to something like that?" Elsa had never raised her voice to anyone, but she came close to doing it now. 1843 was a year of facing her fears. She wouldn't be scared into submission by a middle-aged woman, not today.

Queen Elinor folded her hands around her teacup, her mouth a thin line. "We may have a problem, dear, or perhaps not. It depends. But you seem an intelligent young lady. I'm sure you can figure out why I'm…" _A bitch?_ "…Displeased."

How could Elsa possibly figure that out? It had taken her over a year to realize Merida was in love with her, and with her she'd even been under the impression she knew her well. Queen Elinor was a woman she'd spoken to a few times and never again. Elsa couldn't read her like an open book if she tried.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she replied: "I can't. I _can't_. There's too much about you I don't understand. I don't understand why you're suspicious, or why you're so keen on figuring out why Merida didn't come home to you. Hell, I don't even understand why you left your sons in Dunbroch when you could've easily taken them along with you. You're too… Too complicated, Queen Elinor."

The queen took a sip of her tea, her expression softening just a little. "You underestimate yourself. Believe it or not, but you're onto something. I'll explain something to you, and then we'll see how far you get."

The key now, Elsa figured, was to remain calm. Calm and quiet. She sat in silence, eyeing Merida's mother, waiting for what was to come. At least she could satisfy some of her curiosity, though she feared the cost of that.

"I don't know if Merida told you this," Queen Elinor began, "because I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot. But Dunbroch is an old kingdom, far older than yours, and while not every tradition has survived, there are certain customs we continue to respect. One of those customs is that there must always be a member of the royal family present in Dunbroch to govern the realm."

Elsa saw the sense in that. Leaving a kingdom unguarded could result in a coup d'état or another threat to the peace. But still… Why would the queen leave her sons of all people to stay behind? "I'm sorry," she confessed, "but I'm not sure I follow. You left your sons at home, but as far as I know, they're aged eleven, or maybe twelve. How can you leave a kingdom in the hands of children so young?"

The Queen of Dunbroch listened with attention, nodding along to Elsa's words. "I understand your confusion. Of course, the boys aren't left to their own devices. I had three of the most prominent lords under our rule send their sons to Castle Dunbroch, to aid them in their task."

"The sons…" Elsa frowned. "…Not the lords themselves. Do you fear they'll try to take your family's throne?"

The look on Queen Elinor's face had been serious before, but it grew even stricter now. "You can never be too careful. The lords are good men, but they're also… _Ambitious._ Their sons, on the other hand, are more naive, easier to control, yet more knowledgeable on ruling a kingdom than my own boys. It's a good solution to have them in the castle to help rather than their fathers."

Elsa took a sip of her own tea and found it was no longer warm. She couldn't get rid of her frown. What Queen Elinor suggested was a good solution _wasn't_ actually good… Or was it? She wasn't sure. She thought it over, trying to find the flaw of which she was sure it was present.

"You don't seem convinced," Queen Elinor noted, keeping an eye on Elsa's thoughtful expression. "Don't be afraid to ask, dear. I don't bite."

 _Are you sure?_ Elsa took a deep breath, her fingers tapping a rhythm against her half-empty glass of cold tea. "The sons may be easy to control," she mumbled, hesitant, "but who's… Who's to say their fathers aren't influencing them in some way? What if they're scheming in the shadows, planning to attack you from within your own walls?"

A sly smile crossed Queen Elinor's features. "Hazard a guess. I have a feeling you'll be able to get it right."

Elsa, determined not to disappoint the woman, racked her brain to find an answer to the questions the queen made her face. "Well… I suppose… That your castle staff… Your guards… Are loyal to you and your sons, not to the children of the lords. So even if they… Even if they _do_ want to try something, they won't be able to, because they're surrounded by people who don't serve them. People who can harm them, even kill them, if they cross lines they shouldn't cross." She fell silent for a second. "The sons of the lords are more than your children's helpers in ruling… They're your hostages. That way, the lords won't dare to revolt in your absence. They wouldn't risk the lives of their heirs."

Clapping her hands together, Queen Elinor confirmed Elsa's theory. "And there you have it. You figured it out, dear. I knew you could do it, because it's a remarkably easy concept. If you exercise power over the child, you exercise power over the parent."

Something Merida had told her a week ago popped up in Elsa's head. She thought back to her conversation with the princess, to what she'd explained about the contents of Queen Elinor's letter. _Everything she says has a double meaning._

Elsa got the feeling the queen's last statement had had a double meaning for sure.

"I… Am getting increasingly more uncomfortable with what you're implying."

"Is that so?" Queen Elinor raised her eyebrows.

"Yes." Elsa placed her hands on the table, watching them from the corners of her eyes to make sure no frost crept out. "I think I understand what you're playing at. You came here to observe Merida because you're afraid. Afraid that _I_ have power over her… And that I'll abuse that power."

Queen Elinor sighed. "Don't misunderstand me. I want to believe you're nothing but good. I want you to be every bit the person Merida thinks you are." Her expression hardened. "But I don't know you well, and I'm not a careless woman. I need you to know that if you _do_ have ill intentions, if you _do_ wish to use my daughter as a means to manipulate my kingdom and my family… If you _hurt_ her… I won't be merciful, Queen Elsa. I won't be merciful at all."

A part of Elsa wanted to bury the woman beneath a mountain of snow to shut her up. Was she serious? Didn't she have eyes? Elsa didn't have a bad bone in her body, and according to Anna, anyone could see that from miles away. Who did this foreign queen think she was, believing her capable of committing atrocities? The _last_ thing Elsa wanted to do was use Merida or hurt her in any way.

But the Queen of Arendelle was anything but rash, so she restrained herself. Yes, Queen Elinor didn't think as highly of her as Merida and those she loved did. But could she blame her? In the end, Elsa had to see her for who she was: not a queen antagonizing her for no reason, but a worried parent willing to risk good diplomatic relationships if it meant keeping her daughter safe.

"I… I promise you, I wouldn't use Merida to reach some malevolent goal," Elsa assured her guest. "And I didn't… I didn't force her to stay or anything. It was her own choice, though I have to admit I _am_ happy about that decision. I… Like having her around, and I'd never hurt her."

She saw Queen Elinor relax, just a little, but that didn't mean the woman let her guard down completely. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Why did this have to be so difficult? Elsa took up her fountain pen, which had sat untouched for a while now, and pretended to be more than interested in the document before her, avoiding Queen Elinor's gaze. "I don't know if I can convince you to trust me… But… I love her. I do."

All she could do was speak that truth, and hope that was enough for the Queen of Dunbroch. When no immediate reply came, she focused even more intensely on her paperwork, hoping in part it would make Merida's mother lose all interest in her and leave the library. A silence hung over them; Elsa couldn't quite tell if it was tension-filled or not.

It felt as if ages had passed when Queen Elinor finally spoke up. "Thank you for your honesty." Her voice, at least, had lost the edge it had before. Elsa cherished that small victory. "From what I've seen in the letters Merida sent home, I _did_ suspect she stayed for someone rather than something. You are that someone, is it not?"

Elsa gave her the slightest nod, gathering her courage and looking up at the queen. "Yes. But… I… It's her own choice." Emphasizing that seemed her best option. What more could she do to convince Queen Elinor of her good intentions? She wasn't a machiavellian witch handing out poisoned apples and messing with the feelings of unsuspecting princesses. She was Elsa, nothing more and nothing less.

"I understand." Queen Elinor gave her a smile; small, but more generous than all the previous ones before had been. "I'm not a cruel woman, Queen Elsa. I've scared you enough. For now, I'll do you a favour and trust you and Merida's word that everything is okay. We'll start there… And see what the future brings."

Whether Queen Elinor meant she hoped they could be happy together in the future or if the woman had rather she and Merida never met again, Elsa couldn't tell, though she imagined the former option was more likely. The Queen of Dunbroch cared about her children more than anything, and as long as Elsa could make her daughter happy, there'd be no (well, _little_ ) bad blood between them. But who even cared if the queen's approval was given begrudgingly or not? It was approval all the same.

Elsa found herself at a loss for words, too many thoughts and feelings coursing through her at once, but somehow, she managed to find a reply. She looked the woman in front of her in the eyes. "Of… Of course. Thank you, Queen Elinor."

Relaxing further, Queen Elinor finished drinking her tea. When she'd downed the last sips of her beverage, she opened her mouth, probably to announce her departure from the library, when commotion in the castle halls interrupted their silence.

The ruckus came closer and closer to the library. Elsa frowned, keeping an eye on the door, which was unceremoniously flung open soon enough. In the doorway stood no one other than Merida, bringing with her the scent of winter forests, a coldness clinging to her from being outside, and a whole lot of noise seeming to come from the ballroom.

"Uh… Hey. We're back," Merida stated the obvious, "And unharmed. Well, for the most part. Elsa, if you have a moment, Kristoff wants to talk to you about a new sled, because the old one's a little.… Destroyed." Her eyes drifted to her mother, still seated opposite of Elsa. "Which, of course, I had nothing to do with whatsoever," she added as an afterthought.

Elsa had to bite back laughter at Queen Elinor's exasperated sigh. "And surely Fergus knows nothing about it as well," she lamented, grabbing her teacup and rising from her chair. She made in the direction of Merida and the door. "Knowing him, he'll turn whatever happened into a drinking song. Merida, can we speak later tonight?"

Stepping aside to let her mother through, Merida answered with a casual 'sure', likely relieved the queen didn't comment on the snow she'd brought inside with her on accident again. Elsa made a mental note to tell Gerda not to murder any Scottish princesses while she ruled in Arendelle.

"Are you okay? She didn't terrorize you too much, right?" Merida asked when she was sure her mother was both out of sight and out of earshot. She looked so concerned it was adorable, though Elsa didn't like seeing worry on her face.

With what she hoped was a reassuring smile, Elsa said: "It's fine. We just talked." Though that didn't relay all that had transpired, it was the truth if you wanted to be technical about it. There was no use in bothering Merida with Queen Elinor's initial concerns; Elsa was sure the woman would bring those up herself when she spoke to her daughter later that night.

Her reassurance had the desired effect: Merida gave her a happy grin that lit up the world and then some. "Awesome. Now, Kristoff's sled?"

Right. Trivial matters like destruction of personal property required her attention as well. Like Queen Elinor before her, she went to exit the library, only stopping in her tracks to press a kiss to Merida's cold cheek. "If you could tell me what happened to it, it would be much appreciated."

Merida followed after her, happy to inform her of the crazy events of the day, and Elsa smiled to herself. She had a feeling 1843 would be an _excellent_ year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I've saddled myself up with a few small extra writing projects, it's unlikely I'll produce any special Christmas-themed Merelsa content. The two previous chapters of this story did deliver on that, though, so you can always reread those to get in the spirit of things! In any case, consider this my Christmas gift to you!
> 
> Happy holidays in advance!


	12. Chapter 12: Four elements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 1844, Merida thinks as she surveys the chaos, and the world ends today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick disclaimer before we get into the chapter, guys.
> 
> As you may have noticed from this chapter's title, we're finally getting into Frozen II! I'll do my best to approach it the same way I approached the original: subtlely, while staying true to the original storyline where possible. This is, however, tricky, because Frozen II and Frozen are such different movies.
> 
> I'm still thinking things through, but what I can tell you, at least, is that I'm not going to take your hand and walk you through every part of Frozen II. That is, frankly, tedious, because this is a movie we all already know at this point. This means we'll be skipping here and there and of course there shall be certain creative liberties taken.
> 
> Ah, well, I'll stop harping about it for now. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

No matter what she did, Merida couldn't sleep. Which was odd, alarming even, because Merida almost loved sleep more than food and not even a rioting mob outside of the palace's gates could wake her up under normal circumstances.

Tonight, she'd tried everything, from counting dozens of fluffy sheep to burying her face in her pillow with the vague hope she'd doze off faster. She'd even gotten out of bed briefly and snuck out into the royal kitchens to fetch herself a cup of chamomile tea as a desperate last resort. Fucking _chamomile tea._ Merida wouldn't be caught dead with that drink during the day. It hadn't done her any good, though; all the beverage had done was burn the roof of her mouth while sleep stayed far away from her.

So she'd lain back in her bed again, trying to make herself comfortable, but to no avail. The silence in her bedroom was deafening, almost ominous; Merida had never stayed awake long enough to pay adequate attention to it, but Arendelle was so _quiet_ at night. When she'd looked out of her bedroom window in Dunbroch, she'd seen midnight wanderers, travellers or robbers (they all looked the same to her in the blackness), and animals, even shadowy creatures of unknown origins maneuvering the glens in the dark. If she went up to her window here, she'd see naught but empty streets.

A peculiar thought. Empty streets, as if the kingdom were cursed. Not with an eternal winter cold enough to freeze your runny nose off your face, though; not this time. A different kind of cursed, more akin to the kind of cursed she'd encountered when she'd accompanied Elsa while the latter worked in the library. Merida had taken a copy of _Grimm's fairy tales_ off a shelf and flipped through it while helping herself to a piece of cake. She'd ended up reading a story about a princess who slept a hundred years; her kingdom, of course, slept along.

Merida considered this story for a second and thought about Arendelle, about how strange it would be if it were cursed like the kingdom in the fairy tale. What if everyone in Arendelle slept, _everyone_ , even Olaf, and she was the only person left awake? And as that reluctant thought crossed her mind, Princess Merida of Dunbroch felt… _out of place_ for no particular reason.

That was strange. Merida had been anything _but_ out of place in Arendelle for a long time. Three years, in fact. When she'd told Elsa the kingdom felt like home last Christmas, she hadn't lied. She was familiar with so many things, so many people there: she always greeted the merchants in the harbour (and sampled their wares if those were edible), knew where the best spots to relax in were to be found, and had in-depth knowledge of all the gossip circling through town (courtesy of Anna, who often turned to her with her juicy stories whenever Elsa couldn't bring herself to care about the minister of finances' affair with the local tailor's wife). The room she stayed in had been a guest bedroom at first, but then it had become _her_ bedroom as time went by, signifying she'd earned her place.

And still Merida felt like a stranger tonight, though she couldn't explain why. She wondered if Elsa felt the same at times, seeing as she'd spent the majority of her life in her room. Did she ever feel like a visitor in her own palace? Like an outsider in a busy Arendellian street? An alien in the kingdom she ruled, connected to everything and everyone, but so disconnected from them all at the same time?

Merida didn't know. She'd never quite asked herself if those questions kept the queen up at night. She didn't even understand why she wondered about it now. Perhaps it was nothing but a detour her mind had taken to get her to think about Elsa again. _All roads lead to Rome_ , her father often said, though he'd never visited Rome and Merida didn't believe he ever would. But if that saying was true, then so was her version of it: _All thoughts lead to Elsa._ At least for tonight.

That was why she was still awake, wasn't it? Because Elsa was on her mind. Truth be told, Elsa was on her mind an awful lot of times; God, she loved that beautiful woman more than she'd thought she could. Most of the time, Elsa was on her mind in a positive way; she was present in Merida's memories of days spent together, sometimes saying something sweet, sometimes giving her a soft smile, sometimes pulling her into the best kiss ever (which would be the best kiss until the next one came, and so on).

But tonight… Tonight she was worried. Elsa had been acting a little… _off_ lately.

It was something most people wouldn't have noticed, but those like Merida and Anna, who were close to her, noticed the slight oddities in her behaviour. Elsa was quiet, more so than usual; she'd never been loud, but she seemed to avoid conversations more than usual, as if too lost in thought to participate in one. She'd been looking around, casting suspicious glances at the sky and in the distance, searching for someone... Or something. And sometimes, Merida saw her standing at the balcony, gazing into infinity, and she felt the irrational fear Elsa would throw herself down in pursuit of that _something_ only she knew, the way she'd almost plummeted off the clocktower two years ago.

A sound coming from the hallway shook her out of her thoughts. Merida removed her face from her pillow and turned in bed so she lay facing the door. Shadows moved behind it, and she heard muffled voices. So much for a cursed kingdom in which everyone was asleep. Merida almost sighed of relief when she realized she wasn't the only one awake, though the noise in the hall annoyed her as well. She suspected there were servants out there, or maybe Anna and Kristoff fooling around. Couldn't they all be quiet? People were trying and failing to sleep here, damn it.

The voices left and Merida heard the sound of rapid footsteps dying down as the speakers descended down the stairs. Good. Where'd she left off again?

Right. Elsa.

Tonight's charades game really _had_ been odd. Granted, Elsa wasn't a big fan of charades; Merida didn't mind the game herself, but Elsa liked other games better. Games such as _Who can eat the most chocolate?_ and chess. Personal preference was a thing, though, and no one could fault her for having it. But tonight, Elsa's head had been everywhere but in the game, which was weird even for her. She'd failed her miming in a more spectacular way than ever before, gotten distracted and quit the game, and that had been… abrupt. She'd hurried off, then, to her bedroom, and that was even stranger, because Elsa still liked her bedroom less than the average person did.

Merida couldn't deny it stung a little that Elsa hadn't told her, or Anna, for that matter, what was bothering her. It felt like Elsa may not have trusted them enough, though deep down, Merida knew it wasn't true. Elsa was simply a person who always needed some time. Still hurt a bit, though. But she wouldn't pry, and neither would Anna; they figured Elsa would open up at her own pace, and coaxing her into talking would do more harm than good. So they waited, hoping the Queen of Arendelle would soon come to terms with.. well, whatever it was that ate away at her.

But before Merida could start to theorize about what that could be, her bed shook.

As did the floor.

As did the whole damn _palace_.

Merida's eyes, which had almost entirely slipped shut, snapped open again. A deep, rumbling noise seemed to come from within the Earth itself, as if the devil roared somewhere deep down in its core. Nervousness pooled in her stomach; she sat up, dazed but more alert than she would've been if she'd been asleep, and jumped out of bed, bare feet slamming into the wooden floor.

Her first instinct was to rush to her window to see what was going on, lighting a candle be damned. She stumbled through the dark, swore under her breath when she stubbed one of her toes against a chair standing around, and reached for her curtains. She yanked them open and swallowed hard, bracing herself.

The streets she'd thought empty before weren't empty at all. She saw crystals littering them and people of all ages, shapes and sizes _running_ , their nightclothes billowing in a cutting wind; they either struggled against it or let themselves be used as the element's playthings. Autumn leaf after autumn leaf sailed past Merida's window, twirling in the air as if mocking her and every Arendellian with her. 

_Storm._

The ground shook again and Merida grabbed on to the windowsill, afraid she'd lose balance. She could _see_ the Earth convulse, cracks appearing in Arendelle's roads, and she felt it, too, felt its impact hammer into her body.

_Earthquake as well._

Staying in her room to try and sleep seemed an _awful_ idea of a sudden.

Confused but determined not to sit and wait for some sort of demise, Merida grabbed her black cloak from the evil chair from before and slipped it on over her nightgown. After putting on her shoes as well, she grabbed her bow, which she'd kept in her room even though Gerda had told her arms were supposed to be in armories and not in bedrooms; you never knew when you needed a weapon. A bow wasn't of much use when you fought the elements, but having it with her gave Merida comfort. _Take that, Gerda_.

She threw her bedroom door open and dashed through the hallway in the direction of the stairs. There was no way everyone in the castle had slept through this. She had to find Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, but most importantly… Elsa. This all reeked of magic, she thought as she rushed down the stairs, her breathing jagged. Weather this extreme didn't appear in Arendelle without a reason, and those crystals… those crystals in the streets…

"Princess Merida! I was just coming to get you!" 

Coming to an abrupt halt in her run down the shaking stairs, she realized she'd almost slammed into Kai. She'd have loved to stay and chat with him on any other day, but there were a couple natural disasters ravaging the kingdom right now and she saw nothing but an obstacle in him, a man standing between her and her goal of finding those she cared about. She liked Kai well enough, but if he planned to stop her, she'd show him what pure rage looked like.

"Kai," she began hastily, "any clue what's going on? Where's Elsa? Anna? Anyone?" If the man knew anything, which Merida doubted, he may have had useful info. It couldn't hurt to ask.

She caught him eyeing her bow, as if he was afraid she'd start shooting if he didn't give her the answer she wanted to hear. "As for the weather, my guess is as good as yours. I haven't seen Queen Elsa since she went into her room earlier tonight, but according to Princess Anna, she's not inside anymore. The princess herself and Kristoff just made their way outside as well, to evacuate the people and get them to higher ground."

Merida nodded, stepping around him on the stairs, and gave him a quick thumbs-up. "Sounds like an excellent idea. I'm going to help them and see if I can find Elsa. If you know what's good for you, you'll get yourself out of here too."

The man's answer didn't reach her ears, for she was already back to rushing down the stairs, but she thought she'd heard a 'yes'. Good. The palace was strong and could withstand quite some blows, but who knew what that blasted earthquake with its ungodly rumbling could do to it? Merida didn't want to remain inside and find out.

Besides, she had to find the woman she loved. That was all that mattered now. Kai hadn't seen Elsa, and Anna had implied she hadn't been inside. Then where _was_ she? A storm, an earthquake, and Elsa missing… That was bad news. _Terrible_ news.

When she made it to the courtyard, the first thing she noticed was that there seemed to be no water in the fountains. She didn't stop to examine the phenomenon, her mind too occupied with other pressing matters ( _Elsa_ ), but added another rebelling element to her list. And when she left the castle behind her and made it into town, crushing those strange crystals beneath her feet as she ran, she saw the fires in Arendelle's gas lighting she'd so admired were all out. The only lights left in town came from the moon and all the stars; as for the rest, a total blackout. _That makes four elements._

She attempted to think of a place to search for Elsa, but couldn't focus with all the ruckus around her. There were terrified townspeople all over the place making for safer shores, and autumn leaves smacking her in the face as the wind tried to grab hold of her to throw her to the ground, which still shook violently beneath her feet. The Earth's loud rumbling and people's panicked yelling made for a haunting background choir.

All of that, but no Elsa.

_Damn it._

This was it, she thought to herself, _this is the end, it's 1844 and the apocalypse starts today._ That was a little disappointing. She'd hoped the human race could have held out a few centuries longer, could have made it into the third milennium, at least. Yeah, the third milennium was fine. And when that would arrive and humanity finally got eradicated by, well, a plague of sorts or something, it wouldn't be Merida's problem anymore because she'd have been dead for over a hundred years by then.

She didn't want to die _now_.

"Merida!"

She stopped dead in her tracks, looking around frantically, trying to locate the voice's source. She recognized that voice, knew its sound by heart because it was the most beautiful voice she'd heard in her life. That was Elsa. Elsa wasn't missing anymore, but right here somewhere, alive and sounding well; a weight fell from Merida's shoulders as relief coursed through her.

The queen, as it turned out approached from the left, emerging from a narrow alley, and she wrapped Merida into a quick, tight hug that didn't last long. If it were up to the princess, that hug would've lasted for at least three hours so she could've drowned in its comfort, but that simply wasn't an option with the elements wreaking havoc around them. Shame, really. Merida hated it when stupid things like the actual apocalypse came inbetween her and quality time with her favourite queen.

"Thank God you're okay," Elsa murmured, studying Merida with a concerned glance as she let her go. "Please tell me you've seen Anna and the rest around. Are they fine?"

Grimacing, Merida replied: "I haven't seen them, but I heard they're getting themselves and the people to safety." She looked Elsa in the eyes. "Oh, and for the record, I love you. Just saying it in case the world ends tonight."

Elsa shook her head, taking Merida's hand into her own and tugging at it, gentle. "I love you too, but the world isn't ending. It's just that I woke the magical spirits of the Enchanted Forest on accident."

Even though Elsa said that like it was your regular run-off-the-mill friday night occurence, it took Merida a few seconds to process that last sentence.

"I'm sorry, you _what now?_ "

"Spirits. Forest," Elsa repeated, as if it was in any way helpful. She began tugging Merida along with a little more force, motioning for the citizens still in the street to follow as the elements raged around them. "Come on, we need to get to higher ground."

Merida shook her head in disbelief as she picked up her pace and ran after Elsa, still clutching her hand tightly as if she'd be lost forever if she let go. "You're going to have to give me some more context."

All Elsa did was bite her lip and look away, which was pretty adorable and made Merida want to kiss her and tell her everything would be okay. But she couldn't do that now, for all eyes in Arendelle seemed to be fixed on them, and the Princess of Dunbroch required answers first.

"I'll explain everything when we're safe, Mer," Elsa promised. "I swear."

The conviction in her voice, almost drowned out by the noise of the chaos around them, was enough to assure Merida she meant it.

Whatever Elsa would confess to and whatever the immediate future had in store for them, she didn't know. But what she did know was that something awaited them, something _big_. An adventure; perhaps a grand one. One of the kind that changes lives forever, be it in positive or negative ways.

They just had to wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spirits are awake! Any thoughts on this chapter you'd like to share? Feel free to let me know in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting one chapter every day, 'cause I need time to edit the whole, lengthy thing. I hope you've enjoyed this first part, though, and I hope you'll let me know if you did!


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